


Open Fields and Blue Skies

by Awkward_Amateur



Series: All That Blood Was Never Once Beautiful [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Angst, BAMF Ryan Bergara, BAMF Shane Madej, Bondage, Hospital, Hurt Ryan Bergara, Hurt Shane Madej, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped, M/M, Pining, Rape/Non-con Elements, Ryan Bergara Loves Shane Madej, Scared Ryan Bergara, Scared Shane Madej, Shane Madej Loves Ryan Bergara, Suffering, Torture, Trauma, live streams, tags will be updated as fic continues, the ghoul bois are ride or die, the shyan content is minimal so if you don't like it you'll still enjoy the fic, tied up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24246079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awkward_Amateur/pseuds/Awkward_Amateur
Summary: “Do you think this place is haunted?”If his arms hadn’t been tied behind his back, Shane would have thrown something at Ryan.The boys find themselves in a dangerous situation, but Shane will do whatever it takes to keep Ryan safe.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara & Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Series: All That Blood Was Never Once Beautiful [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930885
Comments: 150
Kudos: 272





	1. No, It's Not Haunted

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I got a good response from my first fic in this fandom so I thought I'd try another. This fic will be multi-chaptered and I have the whole thing planned out but I haven't written any more than this chapter yet. I'd promised myself I would stick to one-shots because I have a hard time finishing things, but this idea was stuck in my head and I've been finding a frustrating lack of whump in this fandom and wanted to do my part to remedy that. Anyway, thanks for reading! If you want me to continue this, the best thing you can do is leave a comment. Nothing makes me happier and more motivated than knowing you guys enjoy what I write. And as always, stay home and stay safe.

“Do you think this place is haunted?”

If his arms hadn’t been tied behind his back, Shane would have thrown something at Ryan. In all honesty, he was surprised it had taken him this long to jump to ghosts as a possible culprit. Not that Shane himself had any other ideas. They’d been shooting on location for the new season of Buzzfeed Unsolved Supernatural. The house itself hadn’t been anything too special, but it was local and they needed something low-budget to pad the season since they were flying to Europe for the final three episodes. Besides Ryan had said it was hella haunted, and he’d had that terrified baby animal look in his eyes like he used to have all the time back when they first started the show, so Shane was pretty convinced it was at least as haunted as the other places they visited; that is to say not haunted at all. They’d arrived at the house with plenty of time to set up and start shooting. Ryan had spun his little tale, Shane had shouted into the void, and then they’d set up their sleeping bags and gone to sleep. All normal. Except, instead of waking up to the sounds of Ryan having a paranormal-induced panic attack, Shane had woken to the feel of cold water drip-dripping down his face and a dull ache in his shoulders.

It had taken him a minute to realize Ryan was calling his name, quiet but urgent, and another to realize he couldn’t see anything. It was a couple more seconds before he realized he wasn’t just sitting in a chair; he was tied to one. His arms were wrenched back behind him, bound tightly by what felt like wire, cutting deeply into his skin. His legs were similarly bound to the legs of the chair and no amount of shifting and rocking seemed to budge the heavy furniture. 

He’d acknowledged his friend’s presence with a shaky, “Ryan?”

“Shane!” Ryan’s shout ignited a throbbing pain in his head and he hissed. Maybe the water dripping past his chin wasn’t water after all. He flicked out his tongue to taste it and winced at the iron tang. Yep, definitely not water.

“Shane are you okay?”

“I’m..” Shane wasn’t exactly sure how to finish that sentence. “Wha-what’s happening?”

“I’ve got no fucking clue, man,” Ryan answered. “I just woke up like five minutes ago. I-I can’t see anything. Are you tied up too?”

“Yeah, hands and feet.” Shane strained at the bindings for good measure but succeeded in nothing but further tearing the flesh at his wrists.

“Fuck, man. This is insane.” Ryan’s voice was soft, almost awed. Shane wanted to scoff but honestly, he kind of felt the same way. I mean what were the odds. This was straight out of a movie. Some action thriller maybe, or a horror movie. Oh god. What if this was a horror movie and they were the idiots who get killed at the begging. They were the start of the ghost story. Maybe someday a couple of overeager kids would come here to summon  _ them.  _ To ask about  _ their _ murders. He had to close his eyes at the thought.

They’d quickly fallen into silence, both unwilling to discuss their newfound reality in hopes that by ignoring it, it might become unreal. Some nightmare from which they’d soon awaken. And then Ryan had voiced his theory.

“No, it’s not haunted!” Shane was in no mood to play make-believe. The ache in his shoulders was moving past small irritant and straight into serious pain.

“It could be!” Ryan’s voice was tinged with his trademark indignance. 

“It could totally be ghosts!” he continued. “You think they’re trying to kill us like they did the people who lived here?”

It took Shane a second to move past the  _ trying to kill us _ part, he was never particularly great at confronting his own mortality, and focus on the ghost nonsense. Unsurprisingly he hadn’t been paying much attention when Ryan had done his whole spiel on the place so he wasn’t exactly sure who the ghosts had supposedly killed and how, but if it had started anything like this it couldn’t have been fun. Though, Shane supposed fun wasn’t the word one tended to associate with most deaths anyway.

“Ghosts aren’t real, Ryan.”

Shane’s frustration must have bled into his voice a little more than intended because Ryan didn’t respond. The longer the silence stretched, the more oppressive it became. Shane didn’t know what the fuck was going on, but he knew it couldn’t be good. People didn’t wake up tied to fucking chairs and then have a nice and normal day. They were well and truly screwed, but for the life of him, Shane couldn’t figure out why. 

They were supposed to have been alone at the house. It was in a small town, west of Los Angeles, on a large piece of property with no other buildings. The crew had had to drive for miles to find a suitable hotel.  _ The crew.  _ They’d be back in the morning; if only Shane knew what time it was now. Still, it was comforting to know that as long as they managed to hold out, they’d be rescued.

Unless... Shane gulped. Unless they weren’t at the house anymore. If they’d been moved... Shane scrunched his eyes tight and tried to calm his breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Or was it the other way around? Fuck, he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember and he was going to die. He and Ryan both. Ryan was going to die and he’d never even told him how he felt, and fuck, now he never would because no way was he spilling something like that in the middle of this nightmare. 

Once again, it took a few seconds for Shane to realize Ryan was talking to him.

“-breath Shane! Jesus Christ. Just breath. Slowly.”

Shane never could say no to that voice.

“That’s it, Shane. In...and out...In.. and out.”

Slowly but surely, Shane’s breathing returned to normal. But, just as he opened his mouth to apologize for his embarrassing loss of control, he heard the unmistakable creak of a door opening, and light flooded the room.


	2. But I Kind of Wish It Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys meet their kidnapper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry it took so long to post and that the chapter is fairly short. I'll try to be quicker in the future but, you know, no promises. Thank you so much to everyone who left kudos but especially to those who commented. Your comments are the things that motivate me to write so thank you so much. Please leave comments on the new chapter if you like it.
> 
> There is a non-consenual kiss in this chapter. I am not sure yet if there will be more non-con in this fic but if you are uncomfortable with this sort of thing, just be aware. It is only one paragraph and very non-graphic. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and commenting.

When the door first opened, and Ryan saw who walked through, he thought they were saved. It was a young woman, early twenties, long dark hair, and caramel skin. She had a look of innocence and happiness and surely she was going to rescue them. Except then her face lit up with glee and she clasped her hands together. 

“The ghoul boys!” She shouted behind her, “You shouldn’t have!”

Ryan glanced at Shane, hoping to find strength in him, now that they could actually see each other but Shane was squinting at the girl in confusion. More concerning, there was a deep gash over his left eye, and blood steadily dripping down his face. Somehow none of this had seemed real exactly until he saw the blood. This was no mistake. This was no prank or trick by the crew. This was real. Shane was  _ hurt.  _

The door closed again, but the girl flicked a switch that flooded the whole room with light. Ryan took the opportunity to take note of his surroundings. The room was fairly small and made of concrete and cinderblocks. It was the kind of space you expected to be gross and dingy and full of spiders but was actually quite clean. The ceiling was low and there were no windows. No door except the one which the girl came through. Shane and he were tied to chairs on one side of the room, both facing the opposite wall. Against said wall was a table, upon which sat a large silver box, a couple of things Ryan didn’t recognize, and  _ oh god that’s a camera, that’s a camera and it’s on, these bastards are fucking filming us. _

“Hey, guys!” The girl spoke, standing in front of them and twisting her hair awkwardly. “Gosh, it’s so exciting to finally meet you! I’m a huge fan!”

Ryan’s stomach dropped. If he hadn’t been before, he was sure now, this was some extra levels of fucked up.

He heard Shane mutter, “What the fuck?” and prayed the girl hadn’t heard it. He was pretty sure this wasn’t the time to anger your perpetrator.

“My name is Natalie.” The girl held out her hand to Shane who just looked at her.

“Oops, right, you can’t shake.” She laughed to herself. Finally Shane looked at Ryan, but his desperate expression did nothing to calm the younger man.

“Right then, dinner will be ready soon, so we better get started now.”

Dinner? What the fuck? Whatever spell had been keeping Ryan quite broke and he spoke loudly, making up for the fact that he was subdued.

“Get started with what? What the hell do you want with us?”

Shane gave him a worried glare, probably trying to shut him up, but Ryan wanted answers.

Natalie frowned slightly. “Ryan Steven Bergara, you shouldn’t use such language around a lady.” She walked towards him, reached out, and stroked a thumb lovingly over his jaw. He jerked away.

“Don’t touch him!” a deep voice rumbled through the room.

Ryan had never heard Shane sound like that. So much anger. So much  _ strength.  _ He shivered at the thought of that strength directed towards him.

Natalie frowned. Then her eyes lit up. She walked up to Shane and knelt slightly so that she was eye level.

“Don’t be jealous Shaney.” She leaned in, one hand grabbing his jaw, holding him in place. She smiled and suddenly she looked less like an innocent young woman and more like a psychopath. She kissed him hard and long, despite Shane’s efforts to pull away, and Ryan had to look away. There were tears forming in his eyes. Finally, Natalie pulled back. She looked Shane dead in the eyes and said, “ _ See, _ I’ll always be a Shaniac.” 

Then she straightened up and walked out of the room, leaving all-consuming silence, save for Shane’s panting and Ryan’s hitched breath. Ryan didn’t know what to say. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He knew what he wanted to say;  _ I’m sorry. You don’t deserve any of this. I’m sorry. It should be me. I’m sorry. I would be okay dying here if it meant you would live. I’m sorry. Please live.  _ But he didn’t know how to say any of it out loud. Those weren’t the types of things that fit into their friendship. And so Ryan said nothing. He bit his tongue and steadied his breathing, and said nothing. It was seven long painful minutes before the silence was broken, Shane’s soft, teasing voice barely reaching Ryan’s ears.

“Still think it’s ghosts?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys see the finale of puppet history? Shane is a legend.
> 
> Also feel free to rec any fics in the comments that feature Shane whump or Shane sad/insecure. I need more!


	3. I'm Sure You Understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ghoul boys get a small hint about what's in store and struggle to deal with the implications.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long since I've posted. I hope this extra long chapter (by my measly standards) makes up for it. Thank you so much for all the support, especially the comments. I'm still pretty new to this so it makes me so happy to see that people actually like what I write. Let me know what you think of the new chapter! Thank you for reading! And as always, stay safe and stay informed.

They didn’t talk much as time wore on, Shane himself couldn’t think of anything to say. Or at least anything hopeful. He was trying to stay strong for Ryan. The little guy was freaked out enough by imaginary things, god knows he might have a heart attack if they were subjected to anything else genuinely terrifying.

It was though. Terrifying that is. Shane could still taste their kidnapper’s tongue in his mouth and he hated it. He hated what it implied. What it might mean for his future. For  _ Ryan’s _ future.

He was also concerned about the clear change of location. So much for the crew storming in to save them. And the girl, Natalie, she’d mentioned dinner. Which meant they’d both been unconscious for almost twenty-four hours before waking. That was worrisome by itself, but it also meant their window for being rescued was closing. What was that statistic again? The chances of finding a missing person after 72 hours dropped to basically zero. They were running out of time.

Ryan was snoring. Shane couldn’t figure out how he’d fallen asleep, except that he’d probably been drugged earlier and maybe that was still affecting him. Either that or he’d been hit over the head and had a concussion. Shane himself was feeling a bit dazed and the wound on his forehead throbbed angrily. Still, there was no chance he was falling asleep. His thoughts were buzzing in his brain and without Ryan there to calm him down, he was heading towards a full-blown panic attack. Which, frankly, he figured was a pretty fair reaction to the situation. 

They were trapped in an unknown location, with no real idea what their kidnapper wanted and plenty of proof that their health and safety was not a priority. As his breathing quickened and his panic rose, Shane couldn’t help but jerk frantically at the wires trapping his wrists to the back of the chair. Blood flowed steadily down his fingers and dripped onto the floor but he couldn’t stop.  _ We’re going to die here.  _ His breathing grew shorter, more labored.  _ They’re going to have to bury empty caskets. _ His wrists burned and the smell of his own blood permeated the room.  _ We’re going to be the next unsolved case.  _ He choked out a laugh, and then he just plain choked.  _ We’re going to die. We’re going to die. We’re going to die. We’re going to die. _

Shane must have passed out, because the next thing he knew, the door was creaking open, and light once again flooded the room. He heard Ryan mutter something as he too woke up to the nightmare they were living. Natalie entered the room smiling. She was dressed nicely as if going out, and carrying two plates, which she placed on the table. Shane gulped as he saw what was on them. Eggs. Bacon. Toast. His stomach growled. Ryan must have felt similarly because Shane heard him swallow hard. 

“Good morning boys!” Natalie grinned brightly. As she glanced towards Shane, her grin slowly turned to a frown. 

“What have you done to yourself,” she tutted, walking behind him and gasping. Oh. Right. Shane had forgotten his panic attack. What he must have done to his own wrists. Now that he was thinking about it though. Shane winced, biting his teeth together to muffle a whimper. He flinched as Natalie ran her fingers across his wrist gently. He flinched again as he heard Ryan’s gasp.

“Shane..”

Shane looked at Ryan, who was staring in horror at Shane’s wrists, which, of course, Shane couldn’t see. He blushed in sudden embarrassment. This wasn’t the fault of their kidnapper. He’d literally done it to himself. He felt stupid.

“Well,” said Natalie, stepping back out in front of them and moving to the table,”We’ll have to get that checked out later. But first, I brought breakfast!” 

She paused as if awaiting a reaction. Shane just stared. Ryan was silent.

“Anyway! Ryan, you’re first, I know how much food you can scarf down.” She winked as if sharing an inside joke, and took one of the plates over to Ryan. Shane turned to watch, as she lifted a forkful of eggs to Ryan’s mouth. He mentally winced as Ryan jerked away.

“Ryan.” Natalie’s smile faltered slightly, “It’s important to eat a healthy breakfast.” 

Shane willed Ryan to meet his eyes. As if picking up on Shane’s intent, Ryan made eye contact, and Shane tried to convey his desperate plea for Ryan to just go along with it. After a short and silent battle of wills, Ryan bit his lip and gave Shane a short nod. This time when Natalie brought the fork to his lips, he opened his mouth and let her feed him.

After both Ryan and Shane had been fed, Natalie turned to leave. But before Shane’s relief at being left alone could fully set in, she turned back.

“Oh, by the way. I have an exciting announcement.”

Shane’s stomach clenched in fear. There was no way that could be anything good. Shane could feel Ryan’s eyes on him, but he didn’t lift his head to meet his gaze. He didn’t want Ryan to see the worry in his eyes. 

“Later today, we’re going to be doing our first live stream!”

Shane knew what was coming before Ryan even opened his mouth.

“What the fuck!?” he yelled.

Natalie frowned. “It’ll be fun! Just like your normal videos! Well, maybe not exaaaactly like your normal videos. I’m sure you understand I do have to keep you tied up. For your own safety.”

Shane didn’t let himself think about that. He couldn’t. It would break him. Instead, he tried to once again mentally will Ryan to keep his mouth shut. This time he wasn’t successful. 

“No, we do not  _ understand!  _ We don’t understand at all! If you don’t let us go right now, I will find a way out, whatever it takes, and if that means I have to hurt you to do it, that won’t stop me!”

Natalie was still for a moment. Then she lunged at Ryan, wrapping both hands around his throat and squeezing.

“Wait! Natalie, stop!” Shane’s heart was pounding as he begged her to let up.

She gave him a soft look as she continued to choke Ryan, who jerked and shook in desperation.

“I’m sorry Shaney, really. But I can’t just let him talk to me like that. You understand.”

“I..I..” Shane gulped and steeled his resolve. He could do this. For Ryan, he could do anything. “Yes. I do understand. But-but he gets it now. Really he does. I promise. I-I’ll make sure he gets it. Just please stop hurting him. For me. Please, Natalie.”

Natalie took a breath. And then stepped away, Ryan gasping and coughing as she removed her hands from his neck. She walked to Shane, running a hand along his cheek. He forced himself not to flinch this time, as she lay a soft kiss on his lips.

“I’ll be back to set up the live stream in a couple of hours. Just rest until then.” 

She gave Shane one last smile and left, this time leaving the lights on in the room.

Shane turned to Ryan, who was still panting. 

“Are you okay? Can you breathe?” Shane couldn’t help the desperate tone of his voice. Seeing Ryan hurt did something to his heart he didn’t want to think about. 

Ryan took a few moments to respond, making an effort to control his breathing.

“I’m fine.” They both winced at the croaking of his voice and Shane tried not to stare too long at the redness around his neck.

“I-I’m sorry-” Shane started.

“What are you sorry for? It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have spoken up.”

“Yeah..” Shane tried to shrug, biting back a groan as his wrists pulled against the wire. He’d forgotten about that fun tidbit.

“I just..” Ryan sighed. “I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I can’t do anything to stop it. I just... I want to  _ do _ something.”

Shane smiled slightly. He’d heard that phrase from Ryan hundreds of times. He could just picture Ryan sitting on his couch, back when he’d had that bad break up, clenching his hands into fists, begging Shane for a way to fix things. For something to do. Shane hadn’t been able to help him then and he couldn’t now. 

“I know.” He rolled his eyes at his own answer. But he didn’t really have anything better to say. Shane wished they could do something too. This whole thing was horrific and left him more scared than he’d been in his entire life.

“It’s this room too.” Shane could hear the tightening in Ryan’s throat. He knew his friend was close to tears. “It’s being tied up, in this tiny, empty, dim, room, and I-” he choked on a sob.“Sorry I-”

Shane cut him off. “It’s okay, Ryan.” He tried to soften his voice further. “I mean, it’s not okay, obviously, none of this is.. but..it’s okay that you feel that way. I do too. I’m-I’m scared too.”

Ryan sniffed and nodded, not meeting Shane’s eyes.

“Just..just close your eyes.” Shane felt a slight smile creep up as Ryan did what he said without question. He closed his own eyes as well. “Imagine you’re somewhere else. A meadow maybe. An open field. Somewhere warm, and sunny. There are tons of birds chirping and shit like that. A cool breeze. Maybe a lake.”

“Are you there too?” Ryan’s voice was soft. Hesitant even.

“Yeah, buddy. I’m there too. I keep trying to show you cool insects but you won’t let me get close to you with any bug. You keep claiming they’re gross but I just call you little scaredy-cat Bergara.”

Ryan chuckled.

“And..and when we get tired of goofing around, we sit down and look up at the sky. It’s so blue, Ry. You’ve never seen a sky so blue before. We do a bit of cloud gazing. Trying to come up with the funniest description. But eventually, we give up on that. We just lay there. Breathing in the smell of nature, listening to the birds and the wind. It’s nice.”

Ryan gave a small noise of affirmation, and as Shane opened his eyes to look at Ryan, he saw the younger man was already looking back at him, smiling fondly. And just for a moment, Shane thought that maybe everything was going to turn out okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of Natalie (also sorry to the person who said they share the name lol)? What do you think the live stream will be like? Will the boys escape with their lives?


	4. Drink Up, Shaney-bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan and Shane experience their first live-stream under Natalie's direction. But the fun isn't over yet...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's been reading, especially to those who comment. You guys are the ones keeping me writing, so keep it up! :)  
> I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I didn't want to make you all wait any longer for me to figure out how to write.   
> Anyway, please enjoy!

Despite Shane’s attempts at positivity, Ryan was terrified of the upcoming live-stream. The idea of their crazy kidnapper broadcasting her sick games for the whole internet to see was beyond horrifying. However, there was also the possibility that maybe this would be their chance at rescue. Once Ryan had calmed down, he and Shane had discussed the logistics of the live-stream. Shane was certain Natalie was using some sort of encrypted server, meaning that no one was going to wander onto the streaming page by accident, but there was still the possibility that someone watching would have a change of heart and call the police. It was the only thing keeping Ryan from saying fuck it all. That and the fact that Natalie seemed to have some weird fascination with Shane. It creeped him out more than he’d like to admit, and despite Shane’s silence on the matter, Ryan could tell it freaked him out too.

Ryan wondered what the crew was doing at this point. Had they gone to the police? Were they staying in the area while their disappearance was investigated? Were they close to finding them or did Natalie hide her tracks too well? He couldn’t picture their reactions. This whole thing was too surreal. He wanted to ask Shane if this was all a dream, but Shane would probably not appreciate the comment. Still, it would quiet that itch in Ryan’s mind... Before Ryan could decide whether or not to ask Shane, the door opened, and once again, Natalie entered the room.

“Hello Ryan, Shane.” She kissed Shane on the cheek. Ryan had to look away. She began to set up equipment and Ryan ground his teeth at the sound of a computer booting up. He’d thought he was prepared for this but now that it was happening it seemed as out-of-the-blue-insane as it was when Natalie had first mentioned it. 

“Now then,” Natalie pressed a key on the keyboard and smiled. Ryan heard a click and then the light on the camera flashed and he knew deep in his heart that things were about to get a lot worse. “Welcome to the first episode of Ghoul Boys Live, brought to you by, well, me! Natalie Orson! Today we will cover the premise of the show as well as future scheduling. We will also interview our contestants and establish a baseline for future challenges. For those of you with our platinum membership, there will be a very special segment just for you directly after this stream. If you would like to upgrade your membership at any point throughout the stream, just refer to the links in chat.”

Ryan made eye contact with Shane.

“What the hell?” The taller man muttered.

“Today’s episode will be about half an hour” Natalie continued, “though future streams may run a bit longer. We’ll be streaming Tuesdays and Fridays in addition to the platinum streams on Sundays. Any questions so far?” Natalie looked at the screen, presumably reading the chat. Ryan took the opportunity to whisper a quick question to Shane.

“Should we scream for help or something?”

Shane shook his head, his eyes drifting to where Ryan knew bruises encircled his neck.

“Alright,” Natalie stood abruptly. “It’s time to interview our contestants!” 

She grabbed some sort of bottle and walked towards Shane.

“Would you like to introduce yourself, honey?”

Shane looked nervous. Not that Ryan blamed him of course.

“I uh.. I’m Shane?”

Natalie laughed, clutching the bottle tighter. Was that..bleach?”

“Oh Shaney, you can do better than that.”

Ryan’s eyes found Shane’s adam’s apple as he swallowed.

“I’m Shane Madej..of uh, Buzzfeed Unsolved.”

“That’s better,” Natalie stroked Shane’s hair, and Ryan was reminded of the spider woman they’d filmed those videos with. He’d hated that woman.

“Since you answered so well, I’ll reward you!”

Natalie stepped behind Shane to where his bloodied hands were tied and twisted the cap off the bottle and  _ oh god she was going to-  _

Ryan squeezed his eyes shut as Shane screamed.

The rest of the stream was fairly uneventful, but the sizzling of bleach meeting torn flesh echoed in Ryan’s mind alongside the screams of agony that had emitted from his friend’s throat. Natalie had done most of the talking. Aside from introducing themselves, Shane and Ryan had only needed to give short answers to innocuous questions. Their favorite colors, dream vacations, first jobs. It had been strange and tense, but not as bad as Ryan had expected. Sure he’d be having nightmares about his friend’s whimpers and moans, but it’s not like there had been any chance of him leaving this place mentally sound in the first place. Once the initial pain had worn down, Shane had seemed okay, if subdued, but it was hard to tell what was due to pain and what was just a result of the situation they were in. Thanks to the bleach, his hands were no longer covered in blood but the wounds at his wrists were ghastly and enflamed. Ryan had to force himself not to stare at them. He had to force himself not to think about the long term consequences. About whether Shane’s hands were ruined for good. Natalie had called the stream a success. Ryan didn’t understand what was possibly entertaining about the whole thing, but the viewers must have felt otherwise because Natalie had thanked them profusely for all the support and donations throughout the stream. Either way, Ryan didn’t plan on sticking around for another. Whatever it took, he was getting them out of here.

Ryan had almost forgotten about the ‘platinum stream’ as Natalie had referred to it. But just as he was beginning to relax at the prospect of being left alone, Natalie turned the camera on once more. She opened a water bottle and held it to Ryan’s lips so he could drink. He was too thirsty to refuse, and after what had happened last time, he was too afraid too anyway. His throat still burned. When she held the water to Shane’s lips, Natalie whispered something to him that Ryan could barely make out.

“Drink up Shaney-bear. You’re going to need it.”

One thing was for sure, once they got out of this, and they would get out of this, really they would, Ryan would never call Shane by a nickname ever again.

Shane drained the last of the water and Natalie put the bottle back on the table before turning to the camera.

“Welcome platinum viewers! Today’s stream will be a very special one. For those of you who prefer the Bergmeister, don’t worry, you’ll get your show soon. But for now, welcome to what I’m calling, The De-Flowering of Shane Madej.”

Natalie pulled her sweater over her head and shed her jeans to reveal black lace wrapped enticingly around her body-  _ lingerie,  _ Ryan’s mind helpfully provided _ \-  _ and sauntered towards Shane, eyes dark with intent. 

She straddled his lap as he began to plead.

“Natalie, please. You don’t have to do this, I-”

She cut him off with a kiss, deep and rough, nails digging into his jaw as she held him in place. She ground once up against him, before whispering something into his ear. This time Ryan couldn’t make out what she said, but whatever it was had Shane jerking back with wide eyes, and more fear than Ryan had seen him show in five whole years of friendship. Ryan grit his teeth and closed his eyes, forcing a breath in through his nose.  _ Open fields, _ he thought.  _ Open fields and blue skies. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What do you think? Will Ryan be able to get them out of this? Will Shane endure what Natalie has in store, or will he fight back?
> 
> Side note: I'm curious how graphic you guys think I should get in the next scene. I don't want to ruin anyone's enjoyment of the fic by being too graphic but I know some people, myself included, often find it more engaging that way. Let me know what you think!
> 
> Side-side note: I cannot believe the watcher boys did all that just to promote their new show. These men are marketing geniuses. The premiere of Are You Scared was really enjoyable and it was nice to see the Ghoul Boys get back to their spooky roots.


	5. Ride or Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane experiences the most traumatic moment of his life. But Ryan isn't going to let him experience another. Aka, the ghoul bois form a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. Here it is. The chapter I have spent days deliberating over how to write. In terms of writing, I'm happy with how it turned out, but as far as the topic goes, I'm still not quite sure if it was the best way to go about writing non-con. I know it is a very sensitive subject, one that I, fortunately, have no personal experience with. Thank you to everyone who commented to help me decide how intense to make this. I decided to make it not at all graphic (this is by my own estimate so if you think otherwise please let me know in the comments so I can make sure to revise this note. I don't want anyone to have to read anything they're uncomfortable with) however in doing so, I created a situation where the area containing the non-con cannot really be marked off as it spans the chapter. What I will say, is that the most disturbing bits are italicized and spaced out. And even those are pretty tame. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments. I still can't believe so many of you have read this. It makes me unbelievably happy, and I hope to live up to your expectations. :) 
> 
> As always (well, sometimes), stay safe out there.

When Natalie, took off her clothes and sauntered towards him, Shane didn’t cry. When she straddled his lap and ground against him, Shane didn’t cry. Shane didn’t cry while it was happening and he didn’t cry when it was over. Ryan cried during all of it. He cried in choking sobs. Quiet, sometimes, as he tried to hold them back, and louder when he failed and they came bursting out. Ryan cried and Shane seethed.

He wasn’t angry at Ryan. Logically he knew that. But, while Natalie used his body, whispering filthy things in his ear the entire time, Shane was acutely aware of Ryan. Ryan crying. Ryan pleading. Ryan witnessing the most traumatic and shameful moment of Shane’s life. He wanted to kill him. Well, no. No, he didn’t. But it was easier to think about killing his best friend than about what had just transpired.

_ Nails digging into his forearms, sighs of pleasure in his ear. His name over and over and over. Shane, Shane, Shane, Shane- _

“Shane.”

Ryan was staring at him. Watery eyes filled with pity and pain. Shane looked away. He didn’t want to talk. It had barely been five minutes since Natalie had left. 

_ I love you Shaney. I love you more than anything. _

“Shane, I’m so...” Ryan trailed off. Shane wanted to snap at him. Sorry? Were you gonna say sorry, Ryan? Is that your attempt to fix everything. Just say sorry and it’s all okay?

_ Tight heat enveloping him. A soft voice coaxing him to completion. His own body betraying him. The pleasure worse than the pain. _

“Fuck, this is so f-fucked up.” Ryan sniffled. Shane wondered if he was going to cry again. It would certainly be fitting. “Are you...Are you okay man?”

Shane couldn’t stop the chuckle from escaping his lips. He couldn’t (wouldn’t) cry but for some reason, he could laugh. Laugh loud and hard. Like some sort of maniac. Ryan stared at him with wide eyes as if he himself had just done something terrible and in a way maybe he had. What the fuck kind of question was ‘are you okay?’ 

“What-Shane what’s going on... Why are you..laughing?”

Shane just laughed harder. It wasn’t really funny. None of it was. But...Ryan was the kind of person who needed to talk about things. To process them out loud and in-depth. And Shane...Shane wasn’t. If Shane had to talk about this he might explode.

_ Lips marking his neck. Bare skin hot against his own. Sweat and spit mingling indistinguishably.  _

“I’m gonna get us out of here.”

Huh. A change in tactics. Ryan must have really been desperate for Shane to talk. He supposed that made sense.

“I know, lil’ guy.” His voice was softer than intended. Weaker. Maybe that’s who he was now. Weak little Shane Madej. Can’t even fight off a hundred-pound girl.

_ Hips pining his to the chair. Wire biting into struggling wrists. Legs flexing uselessly against ropes.  _

Ryan held his gaze, eyes intense. 

“I’m serious. I’m getting us out of here before she can..can..can  _ touch _ you again.”

Shane flinched at the wording. At the awkward way that Ryan evaded the topic. Part of him wanted Ryan to just say it. 

She raped me, Ryan. Mincing words won’t change that.

Most of him would be happier if Ryan just pretended it didn’t happen. Maybe then Shane wouldn’t ever have to think about it again. 

“I’m thinking if we can get her to untie one of us we can overpower her pretty easily. Assuming she’s alone. She was talking to someone earlier though wasn’t she?” Ryan was getting that trademark excitable tone in his voice. He really believed they were going to escape. That must have been nice.

“Of course if your hands are too messed up, you might not be able to help much. Are they... Is it rude to say messed up? I don’t...I just...I’m trying to be realistic. I’m trying to get us out of here.”

Shane didn’t say anything. It was nice to listen to Ryan talk. To listen to anyone talk but  _ her. _

_ So good for me Shane. So right. Like you were born for this.  _

“Shane. Shane, it would help if you would contribute here.”

Shane swallowed. Yeah, that made sense.

“Or you know at least acknowledge that you can hear me.”

Oh. Well, that wasn’t really too much to ask. Shane lifted his head to make eye contact with Ryan. See Ryan. I hear you.

“Okay...” Ryan sounded unsure. Shane supposed that was fair. He wasn’t exactly being much of a conversationalist himself. 

“Do you think we could get her to untie us? Or at least one of us?”

Shane thought about it for a second. Probably. Shane had kind of gotten the impression Natalie would do almost anything for him. Anything but the things he actually wanted.  _ Freedom. Choice. A long hot shower. _

“Yeah, maybe.”

Ryan seemed pleased with his answer. He was probably just pleased Shane was answering at all. Ryan didn’t deal with trauma well. Apparently, Shane didn’t either.

“Alright well...if maybe you get her to uncuff you and then...knock her out with something? Can you even throw a punch??”

Well, now that was offensive.

“Yes, I can _ throw a punch _ , Ryan.”

“Okay sheesh, no need to get defensive.” Ryan paused for a second. Maybe he’d noticed the same thing Shane had. Things had almost seemed normal for a moment. “So if you manage to knock her out and untie me, we..maybe that’ll be it. Maybe we’ll be able to get the hell out of here.”

Right. Things weren’t normal. Things were this. Things were hell.

“I don’t know, Ryan...”

Ryan frowned. 

“What..what do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I just...” Shane shifted, trying to ease the ache in his back and shoulders, “I think that maybe our best bet is waiting for the police to find us.”

“What?”

There was something dangerous in Ryan’s tone. It was overshadowed by incredulity, but it was there, bright and angry. Shane chose his words carefully.

“Remember what she did to you just for speaking out against her?” 

Shane did. Shane remembered. He remembered how Ryan jerked and shook against her grip. He remembered the panicked thoughts that had filled his brain and were still burrowed in there somewhere. She’s not going to stop. She’s going to kill him. He’s going to leave me here all alone.

“So what, we just do nothing and hope Natalie’s either completely incompetent or some magical piece of evidence just shows up out of fucking nowhere?”

There it was. The anger. Shane knew Ryan wasn’t angry at him, not really. But he had to direct the anger somewhere, Shane supposed. That was okay. Shane could take it.

_ That’s it, my little angel, take it. Just like that. Good boy. _

“Shane! Are you even listening to me?”

Oh. Right. Shane blinked the lingering images from his eyes.

“Sorry..” 

He swallowed uncomfortably and something changed in Ryan’s expression.

“I...don’t be sorry Shane.” Ryan sighed, “None of this is your fault.”

Shane shrugged as best he could, holding back a whimper as his wrists pulled against the wire.

“And,” Ryan continued, “And I’m not upset with you or anything. I’m just so damn angry and when...when she...I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I just had to sit there and watch you be...”

Ryan looked away. Well, it wasn’t like Shane was really looking forward to staring into each other’s eyes during this conversation anyway.

“I know it doesn’t mean anything, but I’m so fucking sorry Shane.”

It didn’t. Mean anything, that is. Still. Ryan was trying. Ryan was trying and why was Shane mad at him in the first place?

“I know, Ryan. It’s...”

Shane didn’t say okay. He couldn’t.

“I know you’re scared, Shane.”

Shane scoffed.

“No, no. Don’t do your whole the great Shane Madej fears nothing schtick. It’s just you and me. We can be honest with ourselves and each other. We’re both terrified out of our fucking minds. Now that we’ve acknowledged it, we can factor our own bias into our plans. It makes sense why you’d want to stay here and wait for rescue.”

Shane snorted.

“Wow, way to make me sound real manly.”

“Shane.”

Shane met his stare head-on.

“Ryan.”

“We can’t just sit here and wait. You know that.”

“That’s not true, technically we could do that.”

Ryan looked like he wanted to hit Shane. That was fair. 

“Trust me, Shane. We can do this. We’re the Ghoul Bois. The Boot Brothers. The Berry Bois. We’re starting a fucking company together. We’ve fought demons-and don’t you dare interrupt me to say demons aren’t real, I’m trying to give a good speech here!”

Ryan paused for breath and Shane gave him an encouraging look. If nothing else, he loved the sound of Ryan’s voice. He loved a lot of things about Ryan. Maybe he just loved-

“We’ve had snakes put all over our bodies! And eaten god knows how many insane creations. We’ve driven through rain, sleet, and snow-”

“Are you seriously quoting the postal service motto?”

“Shut up!”

Shane chuckled.

“We’ve done live shows in front of hundreds of people. We’ve gotten so wasted I thought we might never be sober again. We’ve slept on more mold-infested floors than anyone should ever do in a hundred lifetimes. We’re Shane and Ryan. Ryan and Shane. The Unsolved Bois. We’re going to fight. And we’re going to fucking win. Because that’s who we are.”

Well...when you put it like that...

“Ghoul Bois,” Shane smiled, “Ride or die.”

Ryan nodded.

“Ride or die.” 

  
  
\---  
  
  


Later, as Ryan talked through their slowly forming plan, Shane allowed himself to think, very briefly about the thing he’d been avoiding. The thing Natalie had whispered in his ear. 

_ This really is perfect timing, Shaney, in my cycle, I mean. How would you like to be a father? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope I did this justice. Thank you for reading and reviewing. And hey, who's excited for the second episode of Are You Scared?


	6. Only Because You Love Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is forced to watch from the sidelines as Shane puts their plan into action. Will this finally be the escape they've been dreaming of?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaaallrighty ladies and gentleman. I have a couple things to cover but I'll try to make it brief.   
> Firstly, thanks for the huge response to the last chapter. I was pretty nervous about posting it so I'm thrilled you all enjoyed it.   
> Second, I didn't do much editing on this chapter so sorry if it seems a little unpolished but I figured it was better to just get it out there than take a few more days to look over it.   
> Third, I have another story I have started posting called Schroedinger's Ryan. It has a different vibe to it, but if you are looking for some more angsty Shane stories, I suggest you give it a read. I would certainly appreciate it.  
> Fourth, there will be a question in the end notes of this chapter that I'd like to get your opinion on, concerning the future of this fic. 
> 
> Now that that's all out of the way, we can get on with the fic. Thank you for reading, and, as always, stay safe and stay informed.

Ryan was ready. They both were, or at least Ryan hoped they were. They’d talked long into the night, and fallen asleep with hope in their hearts. Or at least Ryan had. He’d made Shane repeat the plan back to him at least a hundred times but he still wasn’t sure the guy had quite gotten it. Not that there was much of a plan. Just a concept really. A single action that would hopefully lead to their escape. All Shane had to do was convince Natalie to untie him and then knock her out and untie Ryan. It wasn’t that complicated, but Shane had been spacey all morning and Ryan was certain something was wrong. Well, something more than the horrible wrongness Ryan was more than aware of. There was something on Shane’s mind, distracting him from their task. Something Ryan didn’t know about. In other words, Shane was keeping something from him. 

Ryan had no way of knowing what time it was, but he was getting antsy. His stomach was rumbling and, though he was happy Natalie hadn’t made any reappearances the night previous, he wished they’d been given something for dinner. Ryan was relying on Shane having the strength to do this, and, judging by the sheen of sweat on his forehead, the big guy wasn’t doing too hot. Ryan hoped he didn’t have a fever, but he knew it was probably a foolish hope. Though Ryan had to crane his neck to get a good look, he was pretty sure Shane’s wrists were infected and he’d made moaning noises throughout the night. It was hard listening to his best friend in pain. Listening to him cry quietly when he thought Ryan was asleep. No more though. Ryan was getting them out, and Shane would never have to go through anything bad ever again. Ryan would make sure of it, even if it was the last thing he did.

When the door finally opened, and Natalie walked in, humming a tune under her breath, Shane and Ryan shared a look. Ryan tried to project strength and confidence to Shane. Shane looked tired. But he also looked determined. Ryan could feel the hope swelling in his chest.

“Good morning boys!” Natalie smiled brightly as she set a heaping plate of eggs down on the table. The sight of food brought something primal out in Ryan. God, he was hungry. 

“How are you doing this morning?” Natalie asked cheerily.

Ryan watched Shane take a deep breath. He silently promised to worship whatever higher power would help them pull this off. 

“Hi...Natalie.” Shane’s smile was so obviously fake Ryan had to hold back a wince. Luckily though, Natalie didn’t seem to notice.

“Hey, Shane. I’ve been thinking about you.” She leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Ryan had to suppress a growl but he was proud when Shane didn’t flinch. 

“I uh..” Shane’s eyes flitted to Ryan’s before returning Natalie’s gaze. “I’ve been thinking about you too.”

“You have?” Natalie sounded genuinely happy.

“Yeah I..uh...I really enjoyed..last night. It was...nice.”

Once they got out of this mess, Ryan was making Shane take an acting class.

“I thought so too. It’s so nice to share intimacy with someone you love.” Natalie cupped Shane’s face in her hands and stared at him with adoration.

“Right....” Shane trailed off and Ryan had to grit his teeth not to jump in.

“Right.” Shane continued. “Since we, uh, feel comfortable with each other now, do you think we could...you know...ditch the chains and all.” Shane jerked his wrists against the wires for emphasis.

“Oh right...well...” Natalie looked to be considering the proposition. Ryan’s heart was in his throat. Was she going to say yes? Was their dumbass attempt at a plan actually going to work?

“I guess I can do that.” 

Ryan mentally pumped his fist. He heard Shane sigh in relief.

“But..” Natalie jabbed a finger into Shane’s chest. “Only because you love me.”

Shane’s brow furrowed. “O-okay...right.”

“Say it.” Her voice was suddenly hard and cold. “Say you love me.”

Shane swallowed. He glanced at Ryan. There was something in his eyes Ryan didn’t understand. Some sort of deep emotional pain. Was this really the worst thing she’d asked of him?

“I love you.” Shane’s voice cracked as he said the words, his tone broken and lost. It made something in Ryan’s chest burn and ache, but it seemed to appease Natalie who pulled a pair of scissors off the table and crouched down to reach Shane’s wrists.

“When I free you,” she spoke, rubbing Shane’s forearms in a gesture Ryan supposed was meant to be soothing, “you have to be a good boy for me. You understand why I can’t completely let you go just yet, right?”

Shane nodded, shivering at the words. _Good boy._

“Shane?”

“Yeah. Yeah, course.”

“Alright.” Ryan watched with bated breath as Natalie carefully worked the scissors under the wire around Shane’s right wrist. The wire was embedded deeply into his skin and Natalie had to wedge the scissors under it thereby cutting into Shane’s flesh. She didn’t bat an eye at the gesture, nor at Shane’s sharp gasp.

“It will be nice to share a meal together, don’t you think? Maybe we could have a fancy lunch later? Champagne perhaps? Or, well, I suppose I can’t exactly drink alcohol anymore. Sparkling grape juice, then!”

Ryan frowned. What did that mean? He jumped at the loud sound of the scissors snipping the taught wire. Shane made a strangled noise and Ryan was certain he never wanted to hear it again. He never wanted to hear any noise of pain from his best friend. He just wanted to wrap him in a tight blanket and hold him tight so that no one could ever touch him without permission. He wanted to guard Shane at every moment, even while he slept so that nothing could ever hurt him. He wanted-

The sound of the second wire snapping was even louder.

Shane attempted to stand but quickly fell back into his chair, gasping for breath. Ryan gulped. He hadn’t factored in that their muscles would be weak and cramped after sitting in the same position for over 48 hours. Natalie held out her hand to help Shane to his feet and he took it hesitantly, though even with the help he was still a little wobbly. Ryan practically growled as Natalie put her arm around Shane's back to further support him. Ryan had to remind himself that this was part of the plan. That this was good.

Shane allowed her to steady him and then glanced at Ryan, a question in his eyes. Ryan nodded. _Do it._

Shane raised a shaking arm, and Ryan knew, as Shane’s fist made contact with a sickening crunch, that he was channeling all the rage that had built up from the moment they were taken. Shane let out a guttural yell as their kidnapper fell back, clutching her face. Ryan yelled out in encouragement and watched in awe as Shane lunged for Natalie, pinning her against the ground as she screamed. This was it. They were finally free.

No more wires tying them down. No more creepy stalker fan. No more unwanted kisses or touches. No more live streams for an audience of psychopaths. No more forced feedings. No more watching his best friend be raped. No more feeling helpless. No more pain. No more suffering. No more-

The door burst open, and two burly men charged in. The first tackled Shane to the ground, as the second helped Natalie to her feet and out of the room. Shane let out a choked gasp as he hit the concrete and Ryan screamed as the man began to beat the life out of his friend.

“Stop! Oh god. Please! Stop! You’re killing him! Oh god.”

The man didn’t even seem to notice Ryan’s existence, and if he did, he certainly wasn’t bothered by it. He was single-minded in his task. Something Ryan might have appreciated under other circumstances.

There was blood. So much blood. On the man’s hands and clothes. On Shane. Spreading out across the floor. Ryan had a brief glint of hope as Shane struggled but there wasn’t much he could do in his weakened state. Not against a man like this. Shane reached a hand up to push against his attacker, but it was slammed to the ground with the audible crack of a broken bone. Shane tried to thrash but his attacker just pressed a forearm into his neck, holding him down and cutting off airflow at the same time. The man was brutal in his efficiency. Shane fought. And Ryan? Ryan yelled and begged and pleaded. Ryan made promises. He made promises to the man sending punishing blows into Shane’s ribs. He made promises to whatever gods may exist. He made promises to do dumb things. Like never skip jury duty. And to always use a metal straw. He made promises to do impossible things. Like end world hunger. And bring back the dinosaurs. He made promises to do anything and everything. As long as it would make the man stop. The truth was, there was nothing Ryan wouldn’t do for Shane. Nothing.

By the time, the man stopped hitting Shane, Ryan’s voice was hoarse from yelling. Shane wasn’t moving. Ryan wasn’t sure if he was unconscious or-  _ please god don’t be dead.  _ After one last kick, the man gripped Shane by the back of his shirt and dragged him from the room. Ryan was silent. He tried to protest, to say anything, but the words just wouldn’t come out. He was so goddamn scared.  _ Please don’t be dead.  _ And alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments feed my soul. Thank you to all those who have been keeping me fed.
> 
> Poll Question: I have pretty much reached the end of the well-planned part of my outline, and must now decide which direction in which to take this fic. I see two possible paths and would like to know which you all would prefer. 
> 
> Path A: a couple more chapters in which the boys find a way to escape/are rescued/etc with the possibility of a few extra chapters (maybe even a second fic) for aftermath/dealing with the trauma.   
> Path B: a much much longer fic in which the boys must adjust to a new life as Natalie's prisoners and must slowly gain her trust as well as individual freedoms. 
> 
> I could see myself doing either, and am curious to see which you guys would prefer. If I did Path A, we would still have a good number of chapters left (at least three or four), and once I finished, I would start another Shane centric whump/angst fic. If I did Path B, it would be primarily this fic (as well as the other main fic I'm working on, Schroedinger's Ryan) for a while. Again, thank you so much for reading and especially for commenting. It means so much to me and I feel so lucky to have readers like you.


	7. Well That Can't Be Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven learns of his friends' disappearance and Shane catches a lucky break. Together, they just might be able to end this nightmare for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for a long chapter? (Well, long for me anyways) Before we get into it, I have a couple of things to say. For those of you who skip author's notes...well, I guess you're not reading this anyway are you. Oh well. For the rest of you:
> 
> Firstly, thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter. I'm very happy that everyone seems to be in agreement on their path of choice and thankfully it is the path I was leaning towards anyway. What's the fun in breaking the boys down if you don't get to watch them put each other back together in the end?
> 
> Second, with this chapter, this fic is officially over 10,000 words. I know that's not really that much in fanfiction terms. But it's the most I've ever written of one thing, and I'm quite proud of it. I couldn't have done any of it without your support and I'm so so very grateful.
> 
> Third, thank you to those of you who checked out my other fic, Schroedinger's Ryan. If you haven't yet, I'd really appreciate it if you did. But if it's not your jam, no worries.
> 
> Fourth, I decided to introduce Steven in this chapter because I think it makes sense to have an outside view of the events. I love Steven, but I hadn't watched any of his videos until Watcher so I'm less familiar with him. I hope I was able to do him justice in my writing, but if not, I promise it will get better with time. Thank you to Dissonance who left a comment suggesting seeing how other people including the bfu community would react. That comment was the inspiration for this chapter. 
> 
> Sorry to blather on for so long. I hope you enjoy this fic. If you do please leave a comment.  
> And as always, stay safe and stay informed.

When Ryan was five minutes late, Steven wasn’t worried. Out of the dozens of times they’d met up to play some pickup b-ball, Ryan had been on time exactly one of them. So Steven had fiddled around on his phone, scrolled through the comments on the latest worth it video (so he needed some validation every now and then, who didn’t), and generally bided his time. When ten more minutes had passed, Steven sent Ryan a series of texts.

Steven:  _ Ryan _

Steven:  _ Where are you? _

Steven:  _ Too afraid to get shown up on the court? _

Steven:  _ Ryaannnnn _

After ten more minutes, Steven called him. He was fairly certain, at this point, he knew what had happened. The ghoul bois, as even Steven himself delighted in calling them, had been on location over the weekend, and Ryan was probably still recovering from the sleepless nights. Nights plural, because Steven knew for a fact that Ryan was always too hopped up on fear and adrenaline to sleep the night before a trip and often too paranoid about what might have followed him home to sleep the night after. So probably, he’d finally fallen asleep sometime that morning and was still napping now. It had happened before.

When Ryan didn’t answer the phone, there was a small part of Steven that was concerned. Ryan always answered his phone. He knew for a fact, the sound would’ve woken him up and he would’ve realized his mistake and answered. Unless of course, his phone was in another room, which, while possible, was unlikely. 

Steven walked back and forth up and down the basketball court. Probably Ryan was just dealing with something quickly and would text him soon. Probably. Steven had to crush the little voice in his head telling him that maybe Ryan had found something better to do. Someone better to hang out with.  _ Shut up, brain. _

What was the appropriate time to wait in between calls? Thirty seconds seemed too short surely, but was he supposed to wait a whole fifteen minutes? Well, Ryan was twenty minutes late now, so Steven figured, either way, he was in the right. He called Ryan again. This time the phone picked up on the fourth ring.

“Yeah?”

Steven frowned. That wasn’t Ryan’s voice.

“Uh...hey...Is Ryan there?”

“Steven.” The voice sounded relieved, “It’s TJ.” 

Oh. Right. Steven felt bad that he hadn’t recognized him by his voice. He’d only met him a few times, but still.

“Ryan’s contact names are all emojis so I had no idea who was calling.”

Steven made a mental note to ask what emoji he was. Right after he (gently) scolded Ryan for forgetting about their plans.

“Is Ryan there?”

There was a sigh on the other line.

“Teej?”

“No..uh..no he’s not here.”

“Well...where is he? Why do you have his phone? He was supposed to meet up with me today but he never showed.”

“Yeah...he’s gone.”

“What?” Steven was confused.

“Missing. He’s missing. They both are.”

  
  


\---

Pain. That was the first thing Shane became aware of. Pain and cold. He blinked a few times and tried to remember where he was and what was happening. He’d been trying to escape, he knew that much. He’d punched Natalie and then... It all got a little fuzzy from there.

Shane was lying on his stomach, his face smushed against something soft. A mattress perhaps? From this position, he couldn’t really see anything. 

The longer Shane was awake the more he felt. His wrists were burning with a hellish fire worse than anything he’d ever felt before. His whole face ached and his mouth tasted of blood. His ribs protested sharply with every breath he took, forcing him to take shallow unsatisfying gasps of air. He was cold too. Freezing even. He was shivering uncontrollably, his body thrumming with the need for warmth. Despite that, there was sweat clinging to his skin. He knew what that meant. The odorous pus oozing from his wrists wasn’t exactly a promising sign either.  _ Well, that can’t be good.  _ Shane almost laughed at the goofy voice voicing concerns within his own mind. Almost.

Suddenly Shane remembered the most important thing in this whole crazy mess.  _ Ryan.  _ Though Shane still couldn’t see shit, something told him he was alone in this room, which meant Ryan was somewhere else getting who knows what done to him as retribution for their stupid escape attempt. Shane had known it was a bad idea. He’d fucking said so. Damn Ryan and his stupid knack for getting Shane to do whatever he wanted.

If Natalie hurt Ryan, Shane might go insane. He was already teetering on the edge of losing his goddamn mind in this place so might as well fall right off the cliff into the river of madness. 

Shane shook himself from his thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to get lost in his mind. Now was the time to find a way out before whoever it was that had beat the crap out of him came back to finish the job. With a deep breath, Shane rolled over onto his side, biting back the scream that threatened to emerge as his whole body filled with agony. His teeth ground together as he squeezed his eyes shut. He had a vague thought about how upset his dentist was going to be with all the teeth grinding he was doing, before reality set back in and he slowly cracked open his eyes.

The room he was in was small. The walls were a robin’s egg blue and the floor was covered in pale carpeting. The only furniture was the bed Shane lay on and a desk against the far wall with an outdated desktop on it. The type of computer Shane had learned to type on back in middle school.

It was at that moment that Shane registered he wasn’t restrained. No ties or ropes or wires. No metal bars across the door. In fact, the door was just a regular wooden door. Nothing metallic or sturdy about it. Shane wasn’t completely naive. He was fairly certain the door must have been locked. But still. That was something. 

Shane tried to calculate how long he had until someone came to check on him. Someone had to have been in the room recently because the computer was still logged in and Shane knew the old school windows operating system logged you out pretty fast if you didn’t change the settings and Shane was pretty confident these weren’t the type of people to-  _ holy shit they’d left him with a computer. _

Shane got so excited he tried to sit up all at once and immediately fell back on the mattress with a whimper, his ribs burning as he fought to breathe in a way that didn’t further the aching. 

_ Still.  _ He chuckled. They’d left him with a fucking computer.

\---

Steven had fallen asleep late the night prior after spending hours praying for his friends. It wasn’t something he normally did. Sure he was religious, and he made an effort to pray for everyone he cared about, especially those going through hard times, but he had never spent hours in prayer before. Something about this situation was different in a way that warranted such long bouts of prayer. Not just the obvious, two of his closest friends, whom he was starting a company with, had gone missing, but something beyond that. Something deep in Steven’s gut had twisted and turned and told him without a shadow of a doubt that his friends were in horrible, terrible, grave danger. And so, Steven had prayed.

Now though, he woke much later than his typical early mornings. He felt a bit groggy and out of it, thanks to the interruption to his normally strict sleep schedule. He stumbled out of bed and straight to the kitchen, boiling water and filling his favorite mug with matcha tea. 

His phone was plugged in on the kitchen counter. He’d stopped sleeping with it in his bedroom as a new year’s resolution that year and he’d been happy with the results. That particular morning, however, as he unlocked his phone to find hundreds of notifications, he wished he’d had his phone with him the moment he’d woken up. He’d received text messages throughout the night from almost all of his friends and coworkers. He opened the one from Andrew.

Andrew:  _ Have u seen the stream yet _

Andrew:  _ Call me when u get this _

Steven frowned. He didn’t know what Andrew meant but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it. He sent a quick reply before moving onto the twitter notifications.

Steven:  _??? _

It seemed that the entire BuzzFeed fandom had gone crazy. Steven had been mentioned in tons of tweets asking for information on Shane and Ryan. Somehow, it seemed, the news of their disappearance had gotten out and the fans were in an uproar. Alarmingly, many of the tweets had an angry tone, threatening some ‘Natalie’ woman Steven had never heard of. Clearly he was missing something.

Finally, he stumbled upon a thread with some substance. Two fans seemed to be discussing whether or not it was ok to upload and share ‘the stream’ (as it was referred to) for the purpose of locating the ghoul bois. One side seemed to be against this so-called stream being on the internet at all, using words like horrific brutality and,  _ oh god,  _ rape-porn. Steven’s mind was swimming with fear and apprehension as he continued to scroll through the thread. The other side of the discussion seemed to think that by sharing the stream throughout the internet, they might, as a community, be able to locate Shane and Ryan or at least provide clues to their possible location. There were links, in the thread, to possible profiles for this ‘Natalie’ and various photos clearly super-enhanced that supposedly, ‘narrowed the field’. Steven considered giving up and calling Andrew. Clearly, whatever this stream was, it involved Shane and Ryan presumably being filmed by their kidnapper. Steven didn’t know if he could stomach that, much less if he even wanted to. If whatever it contained was so horrific-  _ and Steven was refusing to think about the rape comment-  _ then maybe Shane and Ryan wouldn’t want him to see it. Maybe he should just mute his social media and talk to the people who might actually know something. Then, as he absentmindedly scrolled deeper into the thread, he saw it.

LINK TO ORIGINAL STREAM: https//linksy.com/buzzfskjs/first-stream-04%//bllk

As Steven’s thumb hovered over the link, his phone buzzed with a new text message.

Andrew:  _ Don’t watch it. Trust me. You don’t want to see this. _

Steven bit his lip, indecision wracking his brain. Then, with a racing heart and a tight jaw, he clicked the link.

\---

By the time Shane had dragged himself the few feet from the bed to the desk, there were dots swimming in his vision. He tried to focus on the task at hand, this might be the single most important thing he would ever have to do in his life, but his mind seemed to start and stop at random, like an old, scratched CD that skipped. Still, something in him remained determined to succeed.  _ Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.  _ It was probably the part that was worried about Ryan.  _ Do it for Ryan. Save Ryan. _

Once collapsed into the desk chair, he had another crisis. What should he do exactly? He knew that there must have been a really obvious first step, but there was still blood steadily dripping from a large wound in his forehead and if the throbbing disoriented chaos that was his head wasn’t the result of a major concussion, Shane didn’t know what was. Suffice to say, if he managed to do anything useful it would be a miracle.

Shane took a deep breath. One thing at a time. He had to contact someone. He couldn’t text anyone, it was a computer, not a phone. He blinked. What was he doing again? Right. Getting help. Well, he could email someone. Shane tried to remember if he knew anyone’s email by heart, as he opened the computer’s default email app which was already logged in to an account  _ thank god _ . The prospect of logging in with his own information seemed more than his scrambled brain could handle, not to mention he didn’t know how much time he had, and he would rather not get caught thank you very much. 

He clicked the compose button and typed in the first email address that came to mind. Wait. Crap. That was Ryan’s email. He’d been emailing Ryan a lot as they worked on launching Watcher. Watcher! Steven! Quickly Shane typed in Steven’s address. 

_ Click click click.  _ Shane froze. Was that noise real, or just his paranoid soup of a brain creating sound out of thin air.  _ Click click.  _ His fingers hovered over the keys. Should he go back to the bed? Pretend he was never using the computer? Play dead or something? 

No. That was dumb. He needed to do this. If they caught him, they caught him. But at least Ryan might make it out alive.

Utilizing a brief moment of lucidity, Shane opened a chrome tab and typed ‘where am I’ into the search bar. When google spat out a full street address, Shane could have cried. He quickly copied and pasted the address into the body of the email, hands shaking as the noises grew louder.  _ Click click click click.  _ Were those footsteps? 

Shane knew he didn’t have much time. He hit enter after the address and, with only seconds to think it over, added ‘-Shane’ as a sign-off. He hoped that was enough for Steven to go on. He hoped Steven checked his damn inbox. But he didn’t have time to worry about that. He deleted and archived the email and closed the chrome tab before diving back to the bed, biting down on his hand to stifle a shout. 

As the door opened, and what were now clearly footsteps approached, Shane squeezed his eyes shut and waited. Whatever happened now, he’d done all he could. He just hoped it would be enough. 

_ I’m sorry, Ryan. I tried my best. I know it’s not enough. I know I’m not enough. I’ve never been enough. But. I really wanted to be enough for you. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I live for your comments.


	8. Except Maybe He Had To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven watches the live stream and Ryan has a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Two chapters in the same week? And this one is over 3,000 words? Wow! I'm like a whole new person. Seriously guys, your comments have inspired me to write more in the past few weeks than I've ever been able to before. I actually cried when reading some of your comments, they were just so damn nice and thoughtful. Anyway, enough about that, I have a couple more things to say before we get into this (I know, I know, I always blather on forever but don't worry, this chapter will be worth it (I hope)).
> 
> First: I'd like to warn you that this chapter does include Non-con in the form of Steven watching the live stream. I promise you it is no more graphic than the previous chapter but if it is something you are not comfortable with, you can skip Steven's second section and the rest should be okay.
> 
> Second: I'm curious about ways to connect with you all beyond this platform. I've noticed that a lot of people have Tumblrs but I'm not really familiar with that platform so I'm not really sure if it's the right way to go. I follow some Watcher stan accounts on twitter but just from my personal account, not anything dedicated to the ghoul bois. I guess I'm just curious is anyone would be interested if I made a Tumblr or a dedicated twitter account or something. Twitter is definitely something I'm more familiar with but I don't know if it's something fanfic authors often promote on. Anyway, all this to say please let me know if that would be something you would be interested in, and if so I will create a profile on whatever platform you suggest and link it in the next chapter. I guess I would post chapter updates along with random musings, prompt requests, and polls for story decisions in my fics. I don't know.

The link led to what was clearly an unedited screen recording of the original VOD. Steven supposed the actual original must have been taken down or restricted or something. However, apparently this screen recording survived. The video opened on a brightly lit room with three figures. Steven immediately recognized Ryan and Shane, who both looked haggard in appearance. Ryan’s eyes were wide in terror, and hand-shaped bruises encircled his neck. A large gash on Shane’s head had coated one half of his face in blood. More blood dripped from behind him, where his hands must have been tied. Steven wanted to pause the video to collect himself, but he knew if he did that, he’d never be able to get it started again. So instead he took a shaky breath and steeled himself as the third figure, a young woman, began to speak.

_ “Welcome to the first episode of Ghoul Boys Live, brought to you by, well, me! Natalie Orson! Today we will cover the premise of the show as well as future scheduling. We will also interview our contestants and establish a baseline for future challenges. For those of you with our platinum membership, there will be a very special segment just for you directly after this stream. If you would like to upgrade your membership at any point throughout the stream, just refer to the links in chat.” _

Steven gulped. He watched as Shane muttered something that the camera didn’t pick up.

_ “Today’s episode will be about half an hour, though future streams may run a bit longer. We’ll be streaming Tuesdays and Fridays in addition to the platinum streams on Sundays. Any questions so far? _

The girl, Natalie, leaned closer into the screen, clearly reading something, probably the comments in the chat. Steven wished he could see them, but the chat wasn’t visible in the recording of the stream. Then again, maybe that was for the best. Did he really want to see comments from the sickos who actually enjoyed this? Maybe even paid to see it?

_ “Alright. It’s time to interview our contestants!” _

Natalie grabbed something off the table and walked towards Shane. It was hard to make out what it was; Steven suddenly wished he was watching this on a computer instead of his substantially smaller phone screen. 

_ “Would you like to introduce yourself, honey?” _

Steven stared intently. Finally, he’d get to hear one of them speak. He couldn’t get a gauge on how truly terrible this was until he heard how worried Ryan and Shane were. Obviously, it was bad, they were both injured, but there were levels of bad, and Steven was hoping,  _ praying _ , that it wasn’t as bad as his gut told him.

_ “I uh.. I’m Shane?” _

As Natalie laughed, she tilted the bottle in her hands and Steven saw the logo. Oh god. Bleach. There was no scenario in which that was a good thing.

_ “Oh Shaney, you can do better than that.” _

_ “I’m Shane Madej..of uh, Buzzfeed Unsolved.” _

_ “That’s better.” _

Steven felt something deeply protective rise in him as Natalie stroked his friend’s hair. He didn’t like the way she was touching him. He couldn’t help but remember the comment from twitter:  _ rape-porn.  _

_ “Since you answered so well, I’ll reward you!” _

As Natalie moved behind Shane, Steven’s heart beat faster and faster. He couldn’t see exactly what she was doing from the camera angle, but he saw Ryan’s eyes widen in horror and a second later, he heard the unmistakable sizzle of bleach meeting torn flesh. He didn’t know how he knew the sound, but there was no denying it, almost as if it were hard-coded into his brain.  _ This is the sound of cells dying. This is the sound of suffering.  _ It was possibly the worst sound Steven had ever heard. That is until it was quickly overtaken by something even worse. A sound that would haunt Steven’s dreams for years to come. A guttural scream tore from Shane’s throat as he threw his head back in agony. Steven had to blink back tears as he watched his friend writhe in pain, jerking so hard against his restraints, Steven thought for a second he might be seizing. Natalie poured what must have been the entire bottle over Shane’s wrists, before stepping back and smiling down at him. Ryan began muttering rapidly, but it wasn’t until (after several long, heart-wrenching minutes) Shane’s screams turned into soft moans, that Steven could hear what he was saying.

_ “Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Shane. Oh god. Oh god no. Oh god. Oh god.” _

By the time Shane was silent, save for his still somewhat labored breathing, Steven was openly sobbing, as was Ryan in the video. With shaky fingers, Steven paused the video and stepped back. He couldn’t do this. He’d wanted to be strong for his friends. Not that this was helping them exactly, but it was something at least. He’d wanted to be able to do something, but this was just... this was too much. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this.

Steven stood up suddenly, walked to his bedroom, closed the door, and flopped down onto his bed. He buried his face in his pillow and sobbed, loud and anguished. Shane and Ryan were two of the goofiest, kindest, most innocent people on the planet. They were the kind of people that floated through life on their charm and their ability to work themselves into the ground for the things (and the people) they cared about. They were the kind of people who encountered small, easily overcome challenges, like break-ups and imposter syndrome. The kind of obstacles that only furthered their creative endeavors. And sure, they made their living talking about murders and kidnappings and all of that stuff, but they were never supposed to be a part of it. None of this was ever supposed to happen. Not to people like them.

Steven’s mind continued to spiral. He thought about what a rescue might look like. When they were found (not if, not if, not if, not if) they’d probably have to spend some time in the hospital. But...then what? Would they come back to work? Would they even want to? Would they still be Shane and Ryan, Ryan and Shane, or would they be broken husks of their former selves? Nothing but walking corpses waiting to be buried. Was what they were going through enough to do that to a person?  _ You don’t know what they’re going through,  _ his subconscious taunted,  _ you couldn’t even make it through one measly video. They’re being tied up and tortured but craven little Steven Lim can’t even watch one little live stream.  _ But...but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t. Except...

Steven rolled off his bed and to his feet. He opened the bedroom door and walked back to the kitchen table. He sat down and picked up his phone from the table. He couldn’t do it. Except maybe he had to.

\---

It had been hours and hours since Shane had been dragged from the room, and still, Ryan was alone. He kept waiting for someone to come back. Natalie or one of the men or maybe some new psychopath here to get his or her rocks off by fucking with the friendly neighborhood ghost hunter. He’d been certain they would come for him, though he wasn’t sure exactly what he expected them to do. Punish him maybe? Or explain that Shane was dead? With every passing hour, Ryan became more and more certain that that was the case. Shane was dead and he was never coming back. 

Ryan swallowed hard at the thought, but that only drew his attention to his raw, dry throat. He hadn’t had anything to drink in what felt like forever. Realistically he knew he drank a bottle of water the day prior. Natalie had held it to his lips and poured it slowly, right before she’d- no. No, he wasn’t going to think about that. He wasn’t. They could tie him to a chair and force him to watch his best friend go through hell, but they couldn’t control his thoughts. Those were still his, goddamn it.

It wasn’t just water that Ryan craved. Natalie had brought them breakfast, but they’d put their plan into action before she’d fed them. The plate of eggs she’d brought was still sitting on the table, and though it was certainly no longer warm, it was the most appetizing thing Ryan had ever seen. The smell of it invaded his nose until every breath caused his stomach to ache fiercely. Had there been any moisture left in his throat, he would have been drooling. 

Ryan forced his thoughts away from the food. It wouldn’t help to dwell on it, if anything it would make him even more hungry. Besides, it wasn’t like there weren’t hundreds of other thoughts cloying for his attention.

Honestly, a small part of Ryan found it curious he wasn’t bored. He’d been alone in the room for a while now, and even when Shane had been there, he hadn’t been much company. That is to say, it’d been mostly silence between the two of them since they’d awoken in this hellhole. But, somehow, Ryan wasn’t bored. Possibly, because his mind was filled to the brim with pain and fear. He was thirsty, and he was starving, and his best friend in the whole wide world was probably lying dead somewhere and he was never coming back and it was all so, so fucked up and nothing would ever be okay again and-

Ryan stopped himself before he could spiral any further. He didn’t deserve to pity himself like this. Not when Shane was he one who’d had to suffer. Shane was the one who’d been beaten. Shane was the one who’d been...  _ you can fucking say it, Ryan, not saying it isn’t going to make it any less true...  _ raped. Shane was the one who was maybe, probably, very likely dead.

If he was, dead that is, Ryan could say with one hundred percent certainty that he would never get over it. He wasn’t exaggerating. He wasn’t being melodramatic. It was just the truth. If Shane was dead, Ryan would do whatever it took to avenge his death, and then he himself would die, one way or another. It wasn’t due to sadness exactly. Ryan hadn’t had time to be sad yet. He hadn’t really had time for much of anything concrete in the way of feelings. Probably, he was still in shock. That was what Shane would say. He was in shock. It was just the wind. The spirit box isn’t real Ryan.  _ It’s not real. None of this is real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. _

Ryan chanted the words over and over in his mind. Not real. Not real. Not real. But, after a time, when he was too tired to think the words any longer, his brain fell silent, and it was all still very much real.

_ Not real. Not real. Not real. _

\---

For a while, Steven was doing okay. After the bleach, there’d been an entire half-hour of the video where Ryan and Shane just answered questions. Not even weird questions, just surprisingly normal stuff, like where they went to college, and what their dream vacation spot was. He could tell his friends were just as confused as he was by the sudden shift in tone. They were wary, and rightfully so. But Steven himself couldn’t help but hope the worst had already happened. Not that what had happened was good by any means, but, well, it wasn’t the worst possibility that had run through Steven’s head when he’d read the initial tweets. It was, well, fixable wasn’t the right word. But, it was something one could recover from. 

Then, Steven reached the end of the first stream. He was confused when the video showed a mouse clicking out of the first stream and opening another VOD with the title PLATINUM_STREAM_01. He’d been about to turn his phone off before he realized this too contained Shane and Ryan. 

The first few minutes of the video were silent. Natalie held a water bottle to Ryan’s lips and he drank obediently. She did the same for Shane, whispering something in his ear that wasn’t picked up on camera. Steven was pretty sure he didn’t want to hear whatever it was anyway. 

Once Shane finished the bottle, Natalie turned towards the camera and spoke.

_ “Welcome platinum viewers! Today’s stream will be a very special one. For those of you who prefer the Bergmeister, don’t worry, you’ll get your show soon. But for now, welcome to what I’m calling, The De-Flowering of Shane Madej.” _

Steven bit at his fingernails, not even bothering to admonish himself for the bad habit. He had more important things to worry about than his cuticles.

He watched as Natalie turned away from the camera and pulled her sweater over her head, before shimmying out of her jeans. Underneath she was wearing black lace lingerie.  _ Oh god. No. No, she couldn’t possibly. _

Steven began to shake as onscreen, Natalie straddled Shane’s hips. Fresh tears sprung from his eyes as he heard Shane plead.

_ “Natalie, please. You don’t have to do this, I-” _

Steven let out an unintentional whimper as Natalie cut Shane off with a rough kiss, holding his jaw in place as she ground up against him. She began to whisper in his ear as she ground harder, pushing herself flush against him. Steven could barely see through his own tears. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. 

Natalie reached a hand between Shane and herself and began undoing his belt. Ryan started to cry loudly and beg for her to stop and Steven found himself doing the same. Even hours and hours later, miles and miles away, Steven couldn’t help but beg and plead for his friend. His shaking hands dropped the phone, but he picked it up again hurriedly. Natalie pulled the belt from Shane’s pants and ran it against his chest before dropping it to the floor. She pushed his pants past his knees, revealing polka-dotted boxers. Such a Shane choice. So innocent and child-like. She unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time and ran her tongue along his chest, and Steven had to look away. He had the sudden realization that he should have never started watching the video. He should’ve listened to Andrew’s text and just called him. He should’ve done whatever it took to avoid witnessing what was transpiring on his phone screen. 

Steven closed his eyes, unable or maybe just unwilling to see anymore, but it was somehow worse with just the sounds, amplified by the lack of competing sensory information. Natalie’s lustful moans. Shane’s desperate gasps. Ryan’s panicked shouts. Without thinking, Steven grabbed the phone and chucked it at the wall, so desperate was he to escape the cacophony. The phone bounced off the wall with a thud. Steven distantly mused that it would have been more satisfying if it shattered, but phones these days were a little heartier than that. Also, he had a pretty good case. 

It was with a dazed mind and a shaking hand that Steven retrieved his phone. He tapped the screen a few times to make sure it still worked. It did. Again, not very satisfying, but probably better in the whole scheme of things. 

He quickly deleted the tab with the video. Then, just to be sure, he deleted Twitter as well. He knew what the logical next step was. He needed to call Andrew and then TJ. He needed to find out how far they were in the process. If the police had found anything. He needed to contact Ryan and Shane’s families, to comfort them, because he was Steven Lim and that was the sort of thing he did. That was the sort of thing that helped him maintain some semblance of control. Some semblance of balance. He needed to do that. But first. He needed to step outside. He needed to breathe.

\---

That night, Ryan dreamed. 

At first, it was just a calm body of water against a grassy shoreline. Ryan was sitting on the grass, his feet grazing the top of the cool water. It was a deep mesmerizing color. The type of blue-green that reminded Ryan of summers spent kayaking as a boy. Splashing about in the lake with his brother while his parents watched over them fondly. He heard a bird chirp and turned at the sound. The grass he was sitting on extended as far as the eye could see. Flowers dotted the landscape intermittently and a family of finches eyed Ryan curiously. He crouched low and reached out a hand slowly, but the birds squawked and fluttered back a few feet before cocking their heads as if to say, I wasn’t scared. He laughed and gave the little fellas a wave. Ryan surveyed the area as he stood and stretched his limbs. Everything was warm and bright and familiar in a way that nagged at Ryan until he realized why he recognized this place. He’d been there before.

Well, he hadn’t  _ been there _ been there. Mostly because  _ there _ didn’t exist. But he’d imagined this place before. Back when he and Shane were first taken, and Ryan was freaking out. This was the place Shane had described, or at least what Ryan’s mind had created from Shane’s descriptions. The same lake. The same open field. The same blue sky.

Suddenly, a breeze blew by, bringing goosebumps to Ryan’s skin. It was not so warm now. Not so sunny. Growing darker even. The birds weren’t chirping anymore, and though he swore they were just there a second ago, Ryan couldn’t find the finches anywhere. He walked hesitantly into the field, searching for a source of comfort, some intangible need he couldn’t describe driving him forwards. Eventually, his walk turned into a run. 

The field was no longer open; it was full of vines reaching for him, drawing blood, tangling his legs and making him fall. The sky was no longer blue; it was a dark dark black, all-consuming, seeping the color from the landscape until everything was dark dark dark. It was no longer nice. No longer comforting. And Ryan needed..he needed...needed...

“SHANE!”

He ran harder. His body and mind alike were filled with single-minded desperation. He had to get to Shane. Had to. Ryan tripped on the growing vines, hitting the ground hard, but he scrambled to his feet fast enough to evade being pulled down band trapped against the earth. It was okay. Everything would be okay if he could just get to Shane.

“Shane! Where are you!?” 

This time, when Ryan fell, he couldn’t get back up again. The vines had trapped him and the thorns had dug deep under his skin, embedding themselves in his bones. He tried to call out for Shane- Shane who must have been coming to save him, who would surely come save him if he could just yell for him -but the lake water suddenly flooded the landscape, filling his mouth and his lungs until he couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. 

He thrashed and he choked and he bled but his mind called out for the one person who would never again be able to save him.

_ Shane. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. You want to see them okay again. I do too, I promise! I keep trying to get there but end up accidentally writing a bunch of in-between stuff instead. I don't know if I can promise next chapter, but if not then certainly the one after. 
> 
> Please please please comment if you enjoyed. It makes my day. Also, comment about the social media account thing if it's something you would be interested in.
> 
> Love you all. Stay safe and stay informed.


	9. Hush Little Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven gets an important email while Ryan fears the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Two weeks since the last chapter huh? I would love to say that I’ve been super busy, but, while that’s partially true (I've been picking up a lot of extra shifts at work), mostly I just struggled a lot with this chapter. Something about the pacing was hard, but I hope it came together in an enjoyable way. I don't want to take too much of your time here, so I'll save some stuff for the end notes. One thing here though, for those of you who read Schroedinger's Ryan, I know it's been a while since I posted a chapter on that fic but I want to assure you it is not abandoned. I've been thinking a lot about what direction to take that fic in and think that I've come to a decision, however it still might be a bit until the next chapter on that one. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone reading and especially to those commenting. You bring light to these otherwise dark times. I hope you enjoy this chapter,and, as always, stay safe and stay informed. :)

Someone was singing.

_ Hush little baby, don’t say a word _

The voice was familiar. Or maybe it wasn’t. Shane wasn’t sure. Either way, it was sort of nice. Soothing. Shane knew the song well, and the words, oft-sung by his mother when he was a young boy, brought a bit of comfort to his foggy mind.

_ Mama’s gonna buy you a mocking bird _

\---

It was three days almost to the hour, after Shane and Ryan’s disappearance that Steven got the email. And, though he would come to hate himself for it, it was another twelve hours until he saw it. Steven was an organized guy, really he was. But with everything that had been going on (checking in with TJ and the rest of the unsolved crew, helping BuzzFeed manage the internet response to Shane and Ryan’s disappearance, making phone calls to Shane and Ryan’s families and offering whatever support he could) he hadn’t bothered to check his email until the morning after the plea for help had been sent, when he mindlessly scrolled through his inbox over a mug of matcha tea. His eyes skimmed past the spam messages and work-related emails and narrowed in on the message from an unknown address. He felt a strange compulsion to open it and was immediately rewarded for his efforts. The email contained an address, followed by the most heart-stopping word Steven had ever seen. 

_ -Shane _

\---

_ And if that mocking bird won’t sing _

There was a hand in his hair, combing slowly across his scalp. It caused a sort of tickling sensation. Like Shane imagined it would feel if a dozen spiders were to walk across one’s head. It wasn’t a terrible feeling though. No, that adjective was reserved for the burning that encompassed his entire body and settled deep within his brain. 

Suddenly a damp cloth brushed across his forehead and  _ ahhhh _ the relief was like nothing Shane had ever felt, so immediate and intense, that he couldn’t help but let out a small whine.

_ Mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring _

\---

With shaky hands, Steven called TJ. Part of him was certain the email wasn’t real. That it was some kind of cruel prank orchestrated by some hacker who happened to be a fan, or maybe was just cashing in on the tragedy. If it  _ was _ some kind of joke Steven would make sure the perpetrator saw proper justice served, whatever it took. But if it wasn’t a joke... The call went unanswered. Steven dialed again.  _ Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up, please- _

“Steven?”

_ Oh, thank god. _

“TJ, I-I found something! Well, not found exactly, I was sent something. An-an email. I was sent an email. From Shane! Well, maybe from Shane. I’m not one hundred percent positive that it was from Shane but it’s very possible that-”

“Steven! Calm down.” TJ interrupted. Steven suddenly felt very out of breath. He sat down heavily on his couch and took a sip of his tea, hissing as it burnt his tongue. Then he took a deep breath and attempted to respond, but TJ beat him to it.

“You’re saying Shane sent you an email?”

“Yes! Well, someone sent me an email and signed off as Shane.”

“What does the email say?”

Steven was thankful that TJ seemed to be acting quite rationally about the whole thing. Without him, Steven would have never been able to coordinate with the police or handle any sort of public response. He was a godsend.

“It’s just an address. And his name. Like a sign-off or, or a signature. Just,  _ Shane _ .”

TJ was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was strong and urgent.

“Forward me the email and I’ll get it to the police. Contact both of their families and let them know that we may have a location.”

Steven nodded even though TJ couldn’t see him.

“Got it.”

“And Steven?” TJ paused, his tone conveying grave importance.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever you do, no matter how badly you want to, no matter how much you think you can help,  _ do not _ go to the address yourself.”

“But-”

“No.” TJ’s voice left no room for argument. “The police are trained to handle situations like these. You are not. If you go, you will only be putting yourself in danger. And Ryan and Shane are going to need you. They are going to need to be able to rely on you. Their families are going to need to be able to rely on you. So you have to be okay. We all have to be okay. For Shane and Ryan.”

Steven took a deep breath.

“For Shane and Ryan.”

\---

_ And if that diamond ring turns to brass _

There was a bug, crawling across his back, slowly making its way upward, one step at a time. Shane wanted to swat it away, but his arms didn’t seem to be working. So instead he just counted the steps, trying to mentally will the insect away from him.  _ One. Two. _ Each one sent a shiver through his body.  _ Three. Four.  _ The shivers turned to coughs that wracked his frame, igniting new bursts of pain.  _ Five. Six.  _ The pain turned to heat, the heat to fire, then the fire to ice. The flames licked at his skin with a cold so intense he felt he must have frozen solid.  _ Seven. Eight.  _ The bug, spider, whatever it was, had made its way up onto his neck and was now reaching one long leg towards his chin, tapping carefully, as if to find its footing.  _ Eight. Nine. _

_ Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass _

\---

Ryan had been in and out of consciousness all night long. Or was it morning now? He had no way of knowing. All he knew was that despite being desperately exhausted, every time he fell asleep, he was awoken by horrible nightmares. Sometimes they were symbolic, full of dark twisted metaphors. Injured birds trapped in cages. Fish flopping madly as their tanks were slowly drained of water. Darkness, lots and lots of darkness. Other times the dreams were all too real. He relived the past few days in high definition, his brain amplifying what his otherwise occupied mind had missed during his initial experience. He watched Shane bleed. He watched Shane scream. He watched Shane beg. 

Still, he was alone. No one had come since Shane had been....since...since he’d been left alone to begin with. Part of Ryan considered the fact that there might not be anyone left. That this house or factory or whatever the hell it was might be completely empty save him. Maybe they’d just dumped Shane’s body-  _ not dead, not dead, not dead, not _ -and left Ryan here to starve to death. Or, well, he’d probably die of dehydration first. Three days without water. That’s how long one could survive, or so the sang said. Ryan was fairly certain it had already been one day since he’d had anything to drink. Only two more. Only two more days and then he could be free. 

\---

_ And if that looking glass gets broke _

He was cold. So, so cold. There was ice all around him, trapping him and he was so very very cold. He tried to break free but his limbs didn’t move the way he intended them to. He imagined himself thrashing but in reality, his fingers gave a vague twitch and nothing more. And still, the voice rang out, as if taunting him. 

_ Mama's gonna buy you a billy goat _

\---

The door opened suddenly, slamming against the wall with a loud bang. Ryan jerked his head up to see one of the men from earlier enter the room. This wasn’t the man who had killed-  _ no, not killed, beaten, he’s not dead, stop thinking he’s dead-  _ Shane. This was the one who had dragged Natalie from the room. He wasn’t as large as Ryan remembered, about his own height with just a little more bulk, but his body was pure, lean muscle. The kind you got not from working out but from slaving away at some sort of low paying manual labor job where you spent all day hauling heavy shit from one place to another. He was scarred and tattooed to the point where Ryan couldn’t tell the difference between the two. He was bald, with a scruffy beard and scruffier eyebrows. All in all, he was the classic image of a hardened criminal, however, when he looked at Ryan, his eyes betrayed none of the evil Ryan had expected. Instead, he looked bored, maybe mildly annoyed. The kind of look Ryan sported when he had to take the garbage out. Like he’d rather be doing something else, sure, but in the whole scheme of things, the current task wasn’t such a big deal. Ryan was a little scared of what that look might mean. He was a good deal more scared when the man pulled a gun from his waistband.

The man held the gun in his hand and looked at it for a moment, then gestured towards Ryan, barrel pointed dangerously in his direction.

“You ever seen one of these?”

Ryan nodded shakily. He’d been to a shooting range before, with friends. He hadn’t liked it, had found it boring, to be honest. Not that he wanted to be part of anything exciting involving guns, just that, well, standing out in the heat and squinting at targets all day wasn’t really his idea of a good time.

The man smiled.

“You ever use one?”

Ryan nodded again. He knew what he must have looked like, eyes wide in that terrified animal manner, the way they always were when he was scared.

The man raised his eyebrows.

“Really?”

He leaned back against the table and crossed his arms.

Ryan spoke, the words coming out in starts and stops.

“M-my friend. Range. My friend t-took me to the range.”

The man laughed, loud and free.

“No, no, no. I mean you ever  _ use _ one. Like, kill somebody.”

Ryan couldn’t help the shaky exhale that left his mouth. Honestly, he would have expected to be shitting his pants at this point, so a little whimper didn’t embarrass him in the slightest. He shook his head.

The man took a step towards Ryan, then stopped when Ryan flinched back. He sighed.

“You really messed up, man. Natalie was fair to you.”

Ryan swallowed.

“You should’ve recognized you had it good. Then I wouldn’t have had to be here. You think this is how I want to spend my day, huh? Shooting you in the head? Chopping you up into little pieces? Tying those pieces up in bags and hiding them in places nobody will ever find them? Does that sound like fun to you?”

Ryan swallowed hard, coughing slightly at the dry sensation.

The man took another step towards him.

“Huh? Does it? Do you  _ want  _ to die?”

“N-no, please. Please, give me another chance. Give  _ us _ another chance. We’ll do better, I promise!”

The man shook his head. He looked...sad?

“Sorry, kid. If it were up to me, hell, I wouldn’t waste the bullet. Frankly, I don’t see what she wanted with you in the first place that she can’t have now. But, if Natalie’s done with you, there isn’t exactly a good reason to keep you around is there? Nothing but trouble waiting to happen. Besides, you’re expensive, you know that? You need food, water, drugs maybe if you get sick or hurt. You know, nobody ever thinks about how expensive prisoners are.”

Ryan was shaking. The man was gonna kill him. He’d thought he was ready for this but oh god he didn’t want to die.  _ Not like this. Please, god. Not now. Not like this. _

\---

_ And if that billy goat won't pull _

Shane didn’t know where he was. He was hurt and scared, and he knew there was something he was supposed to be doing, or maybe not doing, but he couldn’t remember what it was. He couldn’t remember anything, except  _ danger, danger, danger.  _ And also,  _ Ryan, Ryan, Ryan.  _ Was Ryan in danger? He needed to get to him, needed to protect him, to save him, but he couldn’t move. Why couldn’t he move? 

Something pressed against him and he screamed.

_ Mama's gonna buy you a cart and bull _

\---

Steven was practically shaking with anticipation. More than that, he couldn’t sit still to save his life. Every time he tried to do something, even something as simple as tidy his room, or make a single glass of water, he got distracted before he could finish. Eventually, he’d given up on even the slightest promise of productivity and had taken to pacing back and forth across the length of his apartment. He’d never been this antsy in his life. Though, to be fair, he’d never experienced anything half as crazy as this entire situation in his life either.

TJ had promised to call him the second the police let him know what was going on, but it had been hours, and he’d still yet to receive a call. He’d checked to make sure his phone was working properly multiple times, even going so far as to have a friend call him to make sure it went through. Everything was working fine, and with each passing minute, Steven got more and more nervous. 

What if TJ was trying to figure out how to tell him Ryan and Shane had died? What if that’s why he wasn’t calling? Steven was in charge of coordinating with Ryan and Shane’s families. Ryan’s was at the police station waiting for the rescue to occur and for Steven to text them which hospital the boys were being taken to. Shane’s family was flying in. In fact, Steven checked his watch, their plane was probably just taking off. How would he tell them that Shane and Ryan were dead? How would he comfort them, when he too would be in mourning. Would he have to tell them the gruesome details? Would they want to see their sons’ bodies, broken and abused? 

Steven hoped deeply that neither family had seen the video of their boys’ abuse. Shane’s parents in particular would surely be devastated by the contents. Steven had only met Sherry Madej once, but she’d been so kind and charming, exactly the way one imagined a mother to be. He didn’t know how he would stand it if she knew what horrible things had been done to her son. He didn’t know how any of them would stand any of it.

\---

_ And if that cart and bull turn over _

Ryan. Smiling. His arms wrapped around Shane, patting him on the back in a classic bro hug. Warm. Safe. 

Ryan. Brow furrowed, shoulders hunched. Sitting at his desk long after most everyone else had called it quits and headed home for the night. Typing manically, muttering to himself. Jumping when Shane taps his shoulder.

Ryan. Laughing. Head thrown back as he cackles at some dumb comment Shane made. The comment wasn’t important really. Nothing was important. Nothing but Ryan.

Ryan. Crying, begging, shouting. Repeating his name over and over. Shane, Shane, Shane. Pain. Suffering.

Ryan. Ryan. Ryan.

Ryan?

_ Mama's gonna buy you a dog named Rover _

\---

“Any last words?” 

The man said it so casually. Not in the threatening, snarky way people on tv always did. It seemed almost an attempt at courtesy. Ryan wondered whether it was unusual to think of your soon-to-be-killer as polite. 

Ryan swallowed hard. 

“Uh..I..”

He tried to think of something to say. Something poignant or meaningful or- fuck, why did it matter, the only person who was going to hear it was his murderer.

“Some people like to pray.” 

The man shrugged, like he was just throwing out suggestions. Again, Ryan thought there was probably something wrong with him since he was starting to find his tormentor quite helpful.

Ryan wasn’t immensely religious; he didn’t go to church every week, he’d never read the bible. He did, however, believe in god, and he’d prayed before, mostly in his youth, but a couple of times since then when things had been especially rough. And, well, if this didn’t qualify as rough than what did?

He closed his eyes and bowed his head. Normally he would have brought his hands together in classic praying position, but, well, he couldn’t exactly do that now. God probably wouldn’t mind too much given the circumstances anyway. 

Ryan didn’t pray for his life. He couldn’t say why exactly, but it felt like the wrong thing to do. Instead, he prayed for his family. He prayed that they would find the strength to grieve and move on. He prayed that they would find peace and happiness even with him gone. He prayed for Shane, be he dead or alive. He prayed for Shane’s family. He prayed for Mari and Sara, for Steven and everyone at BuzzFeed. He prayed for the people who relied on Buzzfeed Unsolved, the fans, who would surely take his death poorly. He prayed especially for the young ones, who might be forced to confront death for the first time. He prayed for peace and love and all the things you were supposed to pray for. Finally, he prayed for his death to be quick.

\---

_ And if that dog named Rover won't bark _

Darkness. Something touching his hair, stroking it. Breathing in his ear. Pain. Fear.

_ Mama's gonna buy you a horse and cart _

\---

The man pressed the gun to Ryan’s forehead and Ryan squeezed his eyes shut. The barrel was cold and harsh against his skin; it made him shiver. Or maybe he’d been shivering already. It was hard to tell. Somehow Ryan was both completely spaced and hyper-aware of his surroundings at the same time. The sound of the man’s voice was garbled nonsense in the back of his brain, but his own breathing was loud and clear. It wasn’t shaky like he would’ve expected it to be. It was slow and steady like it was trying to use the last few seconds of Ryan’s life to put in its best performance. He suddenly realized that might be his last real thought. Some dumb observation about his own breathing. Shane would have found it hilarious.  _ Shane. _

The man cleared his throat and adjusted his grip on the weapon. Ryan thought, for a moment, he was about to say something, but there was nothing left to say. The next step in this equation was clear to both parties. The man was going to pull the trigger. And Ryan was going to die.

Except, then the door slammed open and Ryan heard footsteps and shouting, but no gunshot. Someone grabbed his shoulder and shook him and surely they were saying something but Ryan couldn’t understand the words and his eyes were still closed but he was too scared to open them and- _ Ow. _

Ryan opened his eyes and looked towards the source of the pain. There was a needle stuck in his arm.  _ An IV,  _ his brain helpfully supplied. There was an IV in his arm.

“There he is. Can we get a stretcher in here?” 

Ryan blinked. There was an IV in his arm and it wasn’t tied behind his back anymore. He frowned.

“Sir, can you hear me? Mr. Bergara?”

Ryan looked up. 

There was a woman looking at him, dressed in a blue shirt with a red cross on the sleeve.  _ Paramedic _ . 

There was another woman there too. A cop. And behind her, were more cops, flooding the room, taking pictures and talking into radios. And there, off to one side, another cop was pushing the man with the gun up against the wall and handcuffing him.

_ Oh _ . 

“Sir?”

Ryan began to cry.

\---

_ And if that horse and cart fall down _

Bright light. Shouting. Burning. Pain. Fear. Not enough air. Hands, everywhere. Touching him. Get them off. Get them off of him. Please. Please make it stop. Grabbing. Pulling. Something snapping. Agony. Darkness. Silence.

_ You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. There you have it. The boys are rescued at last! 
> 
> There will probably be only one more chapter of this fic (maybe two, we'll see) and then I will move on to writing either the sequel or another fic entirely. (Either way, there will definitely be a sequel at some point because I'm very interested in writing their attempt to regain normalcy in life and work).
> 
> Also, is there somewhere where people collect prompts for bfu and watcher fics? I would love to write some more one-shots but I struggle to come up with ideas and don't know the proper place to find prompts. While I'm asking, if anyone here has any prompt they would like to see filled feel free to leave it in the comments, and if it sounds like the type of thing I could write I'll do my best to do so. 
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a comment. They motivate me to write more than anything else. 
> 
> I love you all; have a great day (or night) :)


	10. Last I Heard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bois are brought to the hospital, but they're not out of the woods yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhhhhh boy. Alright, first things first, it's been over a month. I'm so so sorry it's taken me so long to get this chapter out. I'm honestly not sure why it was so hard. Perhaps it's because I've always struggled to actually finish things. In fact, this will be the first thing (of length) that I have actually finished. So, I'm super proud. 
> 
> Now, you may be noticing that this is not the last chapter. While I intended to write just one more chapter, it became so long that I figured it made more sense to split it into two. That being said, I don't want to make you guys wait any longer than I already have, so the next and final chapter will be posted exactly 12 hours from when this one is posted. So if you're reading this and just wanting to finish it, you don't have long to wait.
> 
> I figured I'll save most of my thank you's and such for the actual final chapter, but since I just finished writing it I'm feeling emotional about it now. Thank you to everyone who stuck with me, even through the irregular uploads and the variance in quality. I'm really hoping these final chapters lived up to what you wanted out of this fic. But keep in mind, things like the fate of Natalie and the men, the long-term impacts of trauma, and the thing about being a father that Natalie said to Shane have not been forgotten. Those will all come in to play in the second part which I have already started writing. I don't know when the first chapter of that will be posted, but it will happen at some point.
> 
> Alright, that's enough blabbering from me. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the penultimate chapter of Open Fields and Blue Skies

Ryan had read that when you woke up in a hospital, you generally went through a couple of minutes of disorientation before you knew where you were. That wasn’t the case for him, however. Within seconds of waking up, he clocked the smell of disinfectant and the beeping of machinery and relaxed back into the bed. A hospital was good. Any place other than that concrete room was pretty good as far as Ryan was concerned. He looked around slowly, mindful of the IV in his arm and the throbbing pain in his head. The room was pretty standard for a hospital room. It was small with a few uncomfortable looking chairs against the wall. There was a little window, but it was too high up for Ryan to see out of while lying down. To his left were machines displaying some sort of information Ryan didn’t care to examine. It was all very clean and orderly. Clean and orderly and  _ safe.  _

The sound of the door opening made him jump.

“Woah, calm down there Ryan, it’s just me.”

He whirled around with wide eyes to find Steven Lim, arms outstretched in front of him as if calming a wild animal. He had a hospital coffee cup clutched tight in one hand.

Ryan let out a shaky breath and gave him what he hoped passed for a normal friendly smile. It seemed to work because Steven dropped the whole approaching a wounded animal routine and took a seat in one of the back-destroying chairs. 

“How are you feeling?” Steven asked.

Ryan took a moment to do a self-inventory check. Having only just woken up, he’d yet to take stock of how his body was doing. His head was pounding, and his shoulders ached from the position they’d been forced to hold. Mentally speaking, he was feeling drowsy and a bit out of it, but other than that he was alright. 

“Ryan?”

Oh right. Steven was expecting an answer.

“I’m alright. Head feels a bit fuzzy, but,” Ryan shrugged, “it’s fine.”

Steven nodded.

“That’s probably from all the drugs they’ve got you on. The doc told me you’d probably be in and out of consciousness for a few hours.”

That made sense. Ryan could already feel sleep calling to him, dragging his eyelids down and making him forget all the questions he had. Questions like how they found him, and where Shane was.  _ Shane. _

Ryan sat bolt upright and turned to Steven urgently.

“Shane!”

It wasn’t exactly a fully formed question, but Steven seemed to understand what Ryan couldn’t say because he responded quickly.

“Shane’s alive,” he moved to Ryan’s side to slowly push him back down against the bed, “It’s okay. He’s alive.”

Ryan’s eyes welled up with tears, and before he knew it, he was sobbing. Steven put an arm around his shoulders and whispered in his ear.

“You’re safe, Ryan. You’re both safe. You’re okay.”

\---

Steven paced the length of the waiting room, counting his footsteps as he did so.  _ Twenty-eight, twenty-nine.  _ He’d been trapped in that room for hours now. Ryan had fallen asleep pretty shortly after he’d first woken up, and by the time he’d once again regained consciousness, his parents and brother had arrived, and Steven had thought it best to give the family some time alone. Part of him was incredibly relieved to have spoken to Ryan. He knew the man was hurting and would be for quite some time, but physically at least, he was doing all right. There had been a moment, after TJ had told him the police were converging on the address Shane sent, where he thought he might never see his friend again. Or if he did, it would be in a casket. So he’d been more than happy to see him alive and...well, not  _ well _ exactly, but functioning. But another part of him had found the conversation with Ryan emotionally taxing. He’d asked about Shane. Of course he had. Steven wouldn’t have expected anything otherwise. Steven hadn’t wanted to lie to him, but the doctor had said Ryan needed to rest and he knew if the man knew the truth there would be no getting him to sleep while his friend was....while his friend was...while his friend-

Steven shook himself from that line of thought. Shane was alive. That’s all that mattered. Anything else, they could work through. As long as he was breathing. As long as his heart was beating.  _ I’m not getting a pulse! Prepare to defibrillate!  _ Once again, Steven had to shake the thoughts from his head. They weren’t even memories, per se. Steven hadn’t actually been there when Shane flatlined. He hadn’t been there when they’d shot 3000 volts of electricity into Shane’s heart. He hadn’t been there when he’d jerked back to life, just barely, coughing weakly, scared and confused and alone. He hadn’t been there but he’d been told about the not one, not two, but  _ three times _ Shane had legally died. Somehow his brain had painted a crystal clear picture of Shane lying dead on the ground and he couldn’t get that image out of his head. It wasn’t surprising really. Steven might not have seen Shane flatline but he did catch a glimpse of him when they’d wheeled him in through the emergency room and those five seconds were enough to haunt him still. There’d been so much blood. He hadn’t been moving.

Shane’s parents were in the waiting room as well, though they hadn’t spoken much, except to quietly thank Steven for all he was doing. The moment they’d arrived at the hospital after they’d been filled in on the situation, of course, they’d taken a seat and hadn’t moved since. They weren’t crying, just sitting there in silence, heads bowed. Something about that resonated with Steven. Ryan would say it was a weird midwesterner thing. Something about not wanting to show emotion in public. Steven didn’t think that was the reason the Madejs had yet to cry though. He thought it was probably for the same reason Steven himself hadn’t broken down in tears since arriving at the hospital. Crying meant that there was nothing left to do but mourn. And Steven wasn’t willing to give up on Shane yet. The doctors had given him the odds and, well, they hadn’t been high, but Shane never was one to play the odds. The man defied all forms of logic, with his height and his hair and his own little unique brand of brilliance. So Steven wouldn’t mourn. Not yet.  _ Not yet. _

\---

The next time Ryan regained consciousness, it happened a little more slowly. He was half-awake for a while, just listening to the sounds of his family talk before he registered that  _ holy shit _ his family was there! He sat up abruptly, wincing at the pain the sudden movement caused in his head. His family abruptly went silent and he blinked slowly until they came into focus. His parents were sitting in chairs pulled up close to his hospital bed. His mom had made no effort to hide her tears. She was clutching her purse to herself for comfort and leaning into his father’s side. His father looked similarly upset, though Ryan could tell he was doing his best to stay strong. They both were giving him hopeful looks, still tinged with the worry and fear he was certain they’d been feeling. 

Ryan let his eyes drift a bit farther and found his brother leaning up against the wall. He was looking down at the ground, but Ryan could tell by the way he was shaking ever so slightly that he was just trying to compose himself. 

“Ryan, honey?”

Ryan brought his eyes back to his mother. A fresh tear was dripping down her cheek.

“Hey, mom.”

He winced at the sound of his voice, harsh and scratchy from when Natalie had choked him. He hadn’t noticed it as much with Steven, but now, in the face of his parents, he was all too aware of the remnants of what he’d endured. He felt weak and damaged. He had to suppress the urge to pull the blanket up further as if hiding himself from his family’s view would somehow keep them from knowing the truth.

His mom carefully put one hand over his and he shivered at the touch. He felt a tear of his own begin to run down his cheek and hastily gathered himself. He was  _ not _ going to cry about this. Well, he was definitely going to cry about this. But he wasn’t going to do it now. Not while his family so clearly needed to see him ok.

“You guys don’t have to look so sad,” Ryan said. He meant it to come off jokingly. Reassuringly nonchalant or whatever. Instead, his voice cracked in the middle and it just sounded nervous and awkward. Which, fair, he was feeling both those things.

“We’re not sad,” Ryan’s dad was the first to semi-pull off a genuine smile.

Ryan raised an eyebrow in skepticism.

“Well,” his dad looked down at his hands for a moment before meeting Ryan’s eyes, something strong and solid and  _ safe _ in his gaze. “Of course we’re sad. We love you and the thought of...of anything happening to you is..” Ryan could see how hard his mom was gripping his dad’s arm. “Is hard. But, we’re very very very happy that you’re ok. More than happy. We..we know how...terrible this all is, but we’re so very thankful you got through it alright.”

Ryan took a deep breath and tried to match his father’s smile. Soft, but genuine. It was strange to hear his dad stutter and misspeak. Ryan supposed this was a hard thing for all of them to talk about. Which meant it was probably time to change the subject.

“Thanks, Dad.” He gave him a nod of acknowledgment and understanding before continuing, “How’s Shane? Have you seen him yet?”

Something dark and cloying clawed at his stomach as his parents exchanged looks and Jake audibly swallowed. Ryan glanced between them. No one was saying anything. Why was no one saying anything?

“Mom? Dad?”

Ryan’s mom gave him a delicate look. The thing in his stomach twisted and burned. He felt himself start trembling.

“Last I heard, Shane was still in surgery.”

Ryan’s eyes widened. He waited for his mom to tell him not to worry. That, yes he was in surgery, but it was just something minor. That he would be okay. Why wasn’t she saying Shane would be okay?

Ryan’s panic must have been visible on his face because his father quickly stepped in.

“You know Shane. He’s a fighter. He’ll get through this.”

Ryan’s panic tipped just a little bit towards rage. He had to remind himself he wasn’t angry at his father. He wasn’t. There was no reason to be. Except that Shane  _ wasn’t  _ a fighter. Anyone who’d known the guy for more than a few minutes could tell you that. That wasn’t to say he was weak, or that he let people walk all over him, but when it came down to it, you couldn’t get much more non confrontational than Shane Alexander Madej. 

Ryan knew that wasn’t really what was causing his strong surge of emotion. He didn’t care that his father didn’t know Shane as well as he did. What was truly spiking fear-driven anger into his chest was the use of the phrase ‘he’s a fighter’ in the first place. He knew that phrase. Everyone knew that phrase. It was the thing you said when there was nothing else to say. When science, and doctors, and fucking common sense all pointed distinctly to failure. When your best hope was to drop down onto your knees and pray those years of Sunday school had earned you enough favor from the guy upstairs to pull off a miracle because that’s what it was going to take.  _ That’s _ when you used the phrase ‘he’s a fighter.’ When the guy was good as dead.  _ He’s not dead. He’s not dead. He’s not dead. He’s a fighter. He’s not dead. _

His mother squeezed his hand, and he flinched, pulling away. 

“What did the doctors say? What are his chances?” he asked frantically.

“Oh Ryan,” his mom smiled sadly, “You just need to have hope. You’ll get through this.”

“I don’t care about me! I want to know what they said about Shane!” Ryan was practically shouting now and he could hear the machines beeping faster in time with his heartbeat. Jake stepped forward.

“Maybe we should-”

His dad interrupted his brother. “Ryan, you need to focus on taking care of yourself right now. Let Shane’s doctors worry about him okay. He’s in good hands.”

“Stop fucking bullshitting me!”

The room was silent, save for Ryan’s panting. His face blushed red in shame. It wasn’t like he’d never cursed in front of his parents before, but it wasn’t something he made a habit out of. And he definitely hadn’t cursed  _ at  _ them since he was in high school. He opened his mouth to apologize but nothing came out. Eventually, Jake was the one to break the silence.

“You’re probably really tired, Ryan.” He looked at their parents. “We should let you get some rest.”

Ryan wanted to protest but he suddenly found himself flooded with exhaustion, as if Jake’s words had willed it into being. He sank back slowly into the mattress, and tried to convey with his eyes what he couldn’t with words.  _ I’m sorry for snapping. I just don’t know what I’d do if he wasn’t okay, _

His mother squeezed his hand gently and his father ruffled his hair once before smiling. Ryan laid back against the bed as his family stood up to leave and was asleep before the door shut behind them.

\---

Steven almost didn’t notice when the doctor entered the room, so focused was he on his rhythmic pacing. However, when he heard the words from the woman’s mouth he turned around quickly.

“Family of Shane Madej?”

Shane’s parents glanced briefly at Steven, before diverting all their attention towards the surgeon who’d operated on their son. Steven took that as permission to join them. 

The doctor was fairly young, though her face showed signs of stress. Steven supposed holding peoples’ lives in your hands every day would do that to you. Her hair was pulled back; a surgical cap was perched on her head. Steven had expected her to show up covered in blood like the surgeons sometimes did in the movies, but her scrubs were as pristine as everything else in the hospital. Steven wasn’t sure why that made him angry.

“Mr. Madej is out of surgery. We were able to repair a majority of the internal injuries; however, his body was quite weak so we decided against going through with some of the procedures that put more stress on the heart. This means he will need additional surgeries in the future.”

Shane’s mother interrupted the doctor with a raised hand, asking the one question they’d all been desperate to have answered. 

“Is he going to be okay. Is he...will he...live, I mean.”

Steven wished he knew Shane’s mother better so that he could put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Their relationship as it was, he decided against it.

The doctor adopted a sympathetic look. It made Steven’s toes curl. 

“The fact that Shane survived surgery is a very good sign.”

_ No shit, _ Steven thought.

“However,” the doctor continued, “Shane sustained severe head trauma. We had to put him in a medically induced coma in order to give his brain room to heal. I know that sounds really scary, but it’s actually a pretty normal step we take with patients who’ve undergone such serious trauma. If his healing progresses at the rate we’d like it to, we could expect to pull him from the coma in a few days, though you should know it may be longer.”

“How much longer?” Shane’s dad asked.

“A week, maybe two. In extreme cases, we’ve had patients stay under as long as six months” 

_ Six months.  _ Steven decidedly didn’t think about what that would be like. 

The doctor paused, open-mouthed as if hesitating to tell them something.

“What?” Steven didn’t care if it would be hard to hear. He needed to know what was going on with his friend.

“It is also possible, with cases as grievous as Shane’s, that the patient never regains consciousness.” Shane’s mother made a small noise of protest but the doctor continued on. 

“By putting a patient into a medically induced coma, we are taking away pressure from the brain but putting more pressure on the rest of the body. We typically only use it as a last resort.” The doctor twitched suddenly as if realizing she’d said too much.

“The important thing,” she added hurriedly, “is that your son is in very good hands, and we will do everything we can to make sure he gets through this.”

A nurse entered the room and nodded at the surgeon who sighed in relief. She turned back to Shane’s parents.

“And now, if you wish to see your son, you can follow the nurse to Shane’s room.”

Steven watched as the Madej’s hurriedly gathered up their things and followed the nurse towards the room that held their sleeping son. Well, sleeping wasn’t really the right word, was it? Oh well, it sounded a lot nicer than ‘their son who’s in a medically induced coma’. Steven shuddered at the thought. He didn’t attempt to follow Shane’s parents. Part of him stayed behind because it seemed like the right thing to do, to give the parents some time alone with their wounded son. But if he was being honest, Steven knew another part of him was just too scared to face the reality of the situation. That Shane was broken, beaten, and bruised. That he was....sleeping. And that he may never awaken again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I'm really nervous about how these final chapters will go over especially since it's been so long since I last uploaded. So please please please, if you enjoyed this chapter or just this fic in general, leave a comment. Also, feel free to let me know what you would be looking for in a sequel. I have a pretty good idea of the direction I want to take it, but I am always open to suggestions.
> 
> Thank you all so much, and as always, stay safe and stay informed :)
> 
> (and also register to vote)


	11. I Don't Think I Could Survive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's the last one...
> 
> ...for now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually tearing up, as I write this author's note. I can't believe I'm finishing this fic. I can't believe it's over 20,000 words. I can't believe it's coming out an hour later than I promised because my mother needed me to do her fantasy football draft while she told me which picks to make over the phone. 
> 
> I want to say thank you to everyone who read this. Especially those who've been commenting since the beginning. I'm not going to list your names out here, but you know who you are and I hope you know how much I appreciate you. Without your comments, I would never have found the motivation to finish this fic. 
> 
> I started this story because I thought there was a lack of Shane whump in the fandom, and while I still think that's true, I'm happy to be a part of the change I want to see lol. I've been reading so much bfu fanfiction these days and am surprised time and time again by how imaginative, hilarious, and brilliant the writers in this fandom continue to be. I am so honored to be here alongside you.
> 
> I don't have much else to say here (though I'm sure I'll put more at the end) but for those of you still interested in this story, I have already begun working on Part 2. 
> 
> Alright, enough talking, I'll let you read. I hope you enjoy, and I look forward to reading your comments. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I did very very very minimal research about medical stuff for these last two chapters so it may not be accurate.

When Ryan was released from the hospital after a few days of observation, he simply moved from the hospital bed in the room he’d been given, to a chair in the waiting room one floor down. His family had made a weak attempt to get him to come back to the hotel room they’d booked, but it had quickly become apparent that he wasn’t going anywhere until there was news on Shane. So he’d claimed a chair next to the Madejs, who’d also seemed unable to leave the hospital, and settled in. Steven was coordinating with BuzzFeed, figuring out how they would respond to any of this since it was all their corner of the internet was talking about. He’d made the mistake of asking Ryan if he wanted to make a statement a couple of days after Ryan had been released. Ryan had simply glared at him and then gotten up to get coffee.

The truth was, he knew they were going to have to come up with something to tell the internet. They couldn’t just ignore it. Whether they continued making Buzzfeed Unsolved or not, and boy did Ryan have a hard time grappling with his feelings on that dilemma, people were going to pester them about it for the rest of their lives. He knew the best way to put something like this to bed was to address it once, say everything there was to say and then never bring it up again. Control the narrative, before the news media put their own spin on things. Part of Ryan itched to draft a statement, if for no other reason than to have something to do with his hands. But the idea of doing any of that without Shane...the idea of doing _anything_ without Shane...

Ryan was exhausted. He hadn’t been sleeping well and he couldn’t even blame the hospital chairs. Every time he so much as dozed off, he was awoken by horrible nightmares. Well, were they still called nightmares if they’d actually happened? 

Shane’s brother Scott had come and gone. He’d been appropriately worried and angry, but when he’d left Ryan had felt a sense of relief. For some reason, everyone made him anxious now. Even his own family. He had this deep-seated _need_ to be near Shane. He didn’t know if he wanted to protect him or be protected by him, but he knew he didn’t want to be around anyone else until he had his best friend by his side. Did that make him co-dependent? Oh well, if that was the worst side effect to come out of this whole thing, it would be a miracle.

Despite the longing in his gut, Ryan couldn’t bring himself to actually visit Shane. Not while he was broken, not while he was vulnerable, not while he was still. _So still,_ he’d heard Steven say over the phone when he’d thought Ryan was sleeping, _that he almost looks dead._ He hoped Shane wouldn’t hate him for it, not visiting that is. It wasn’t like Shane was aware of anything anyway. Ryan ignored the part of his brain reminding him of all the coma patients who had claimed to hear their loved ones while they were unconscious. Whatever. Ryan would be the first one there when Shane woke up. That would make up for it.

Except, then a miracle happened. After the two-week deadline had come and gone, the doctors sadly shaking their heads when Ryan asked if Shane was doing okay, Shane had had a sudden and unexplained burst of healing. And then, one morning, they were gathering everyone in the room as they lifted the coma and brought Shane back to reality. Everyone but Ryan, who sat in the hospital waiting room and cried.

\---

Shane wasn’t sure exactly what he was watching. Which wasn’t a very good sign of the state of his mental acuity considering he’d been watching the same program for almost an hour. It was some sort of game show, Shane was pretty sure. Either that or a reality tv show. No, wait, definitely a game show. There was some sort of wheel and a lot of buzzers. Dollar signs everywhere and some balding white guy with a cheap suit and a microphone. He hated himself a little bit for not being able to track something so very simple, but the doctors, and boy were there a lot of them, had told him that he should expect to be a bit off for the next few days. He tried to ignore the part of him that thought he might be ‘off’ for a good bit longer than that. Maybe forever.

Shane had only been awake for a couple of hours but already he was exhausted. Fatigue was another thing the doctors had told him to expect when he’d first awakened a few days prior and had barely been able to hold his eyelids open for more than a second at a time. Since then, when they asked how he was doing and he responded “tired” they just said, “that’s to be expected, remember?” Shane wanted to scream at them that expecting to be tired didn’t make it any less frustrating when a simple conversation necessitated a three-hour nap directly afterward.

It was even more frustrating, that the only conversations Shane had were with his parents or his doctors. Shane’s brother had flown in when he’d first been brought to the hospital, his parents had informed him, but he’d only been able to take a week off work before he’d had to head home. He’d said he’d be back as soon as he could, and he’d face-timed Shane a couple of times, but still... Shane didn’t like thinking about the two and a half weeks during which he’d been unconscious. He didn’t like thinking about the events that had come before that either.

The point was, Shane was desperate for someone to talk to. Someone without a medical degree or the last name Madej. Steven had visited the day before, but Shane and Steven had never really hung out on their own, and while he trusted the man enough to start a company with him, he didn’t really know how to talk to him without Ryan there as a translator. Ryan, who hadn’t been to see him once in the three days he’d been awake. 

At first, Shane had been worried that, despite everyone’s reassurance that Ryan was okay, his best friend had suffered some severe injury or maybe died and his family was too scared to tell him. Once Steven had confirmed Ryan’s physical health however, Shane was able to believe it for the truth it was. Steven wouldn’t lie about something like that. He was too good a person. So good in fact, that he’d attempted to make excuses for why Ryan hadn’t visited yet. Shane had let him. He himself wasn’t sure why Ryan wouldn’t want to see him and all the possibilities he could come up with were tinged with self-hate so he knew they weren’t likely. Ryan didn’t hate him. Couldn’t possibly. Right? 

As if Shane’s thoughts had summoned him into existence, Ryan chose that moment to walk through the door and into Shane’s hospital room. Shane watched wide-eyed as Ryan took in the room, then, more carefully, as Ryan took in _Shane._

Shane had made the mistake of looking in a mirror on that first day when he’d been in and out of consciousness and what he’d seen had made him swear off mirrors for the rest of his life. His skin was pale, his face gaunt. His eyes were sunken and gray. Strands of hair clung to his sweaty forehead, tickling his eyelashes with their length. He was skinny too, not in his normal discount slenderman way, more like a man who hadn’t eaten in weeks. Which, in a way, he hadn’t. Assuming you didn’t count the feeding tubes.

By the time Ryan had finished looking him over, Shane’s attention was back on the television screen. Someone on the show had won something. Again, Shane wasn’t really able to distinguish the particulars. _Give it time,_ his doctor’s voice echoed in his head. He wondered how much time he was supposed to give exactly.

“So uh,” Shane looked over as Ryan spoke. “How’s the jello.”

Shane stared blankly.

“That’s uh..that’s what they feed you in hospitals right?”

Shane shrugged.

“They’ve just been giving me these weird smoothie things. I’m not allowed to have solid foods yet.”

“Oh.”

Ryan seemed to have run out of things to say so Shane decided to help him out.

“If you’re that desperate for jello, Ry-guy, I’m sure I could get Janice to hook you up .”

“Who’s Janice?” Ryan was smiling. Good. Shane missed that smile.

“One of the nurses.” Shane liked the nurses. They laughed at his jokes and held his hands when the pain got bad. Well, not his hands actually. His forearms usually, sometimes his shoulders. His hands were...they...

“Oh, so you’re on a first-name basis with the nurses now?”

“Why, does that make you jealous?” Shane wriggled his eyebrows in the way he knew was destined to get a laugh out of Ryan. He wasn’t disappointed.

It was nice. Talking to Ryan. Even just this little bit was enough to raise Shane’s spirits.

“How uh,” Ryan broke eye contact, shifting his gaze a little to Shane’s left. “How’re you feeling?”

Shane wasn’t sure how to respond. Did Ryan want a full list of his injuries? Someone had probably given him the gist. And besides, Shane didn’t really feel like going over them anyway. Did Ryan want to know about the pain? Or did he mean on a more emotional level? Shane decided to play it safe.

“I’m okay. You?”

Ryan smiled softly.

“I’m okay too.

Shane opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly Ryan’s smile curled down into a frown and he began to sob loudly. Shane froze in surprise as Ryan burrowed his face in his hands, clearly attempting to stop the loud cries leaving his mouth.

“Ryan...what?” Shane didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder but he was hesitant to move his hands at all without a doctor there to make sure he didn’t make anything worse.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan sobbed.

Shane frowned. He leaned forward, trying to comfort Ryan the best he could without furthering his injuries.

“What are you talking about?” He asked softly.

“I’m so fucking sorry Shane. This is all my fault.” His words were muffled by his hands but Shane could make out enough to feel his heart rip in two.

“No, Ryan.” He frantically searched for the right words. “This isn’t-It’s not your fault. None of it.”

“But I,” Ryan pulled back wiping at his eyes and nose. “I brought you into this. None of it would have happened if I hadn’t dragged you along to the location.”

“You didn’t drag me anywhere, Ryan. I love doing Unsolved with you and-”

Ryan interrupted him. “And you’re the one who got hurt. Who-whose fucking life is ruined cause of me.”

Shane’s eyebrows shot up. “Hey, wait a second, hold up. Last time I checked my life was very much not-ruined, thanks for asking.”

Ryan attempted to respond but Shane beat him to it.

“Let me finish!” 

Shane took a deep breath, preparing himself to get serious. God, he hated serious talks. But even Shane ‘I love emotions, I have them all the time’ Madej needed to get real once in a while.

“I get it. The..what’s it called...survivor’s guilt! I get that you have survivor's guilt because I got more hurt or whatever. But that doesn’t make it your fault.” 

Once again Shane had to raise his voice and speak faster to stop Ryan from cutting in.

“You’re allowed to be traumatized by this. Hell, I’d be a little concerned if you weren’t. It’s not a competition. And by the way, the ‘who got more fucked up by the psychopaths’ competition is not one I’d willingly participate in any way. Plus,” Shane swallowed hard and dropped his eyes before raising them again to meet Ryan’s with intensity, “I can’t do this without you. So, if it was guilt or whatever that stopped you from coming to see me, get over it.”  
Shane watched Ryan squirm in his seat.

“It wasn’t...It wasn’t _just_ the guilt.”

Shane nodded, encouraging Ryan to continue.

“I didn’t want...I was scared that..that I would walk in here and you’d be...you’d be lying there dead. And I-I don’t think I could survive if you died.”

Shane leaned forward as far as he could, far enough that he could rest his forehead against Ryan’s. It wasn’t a hand on the shoulder, but it was the best he could do. Based on the way Ryan sucked in a breath before relaxing his head fully against Shane’s, Shane figured it’d been the right move.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, Ryan’s breath slowly returning to normal, Shane trying to stop his own tears from falling. It was a comfortable silence. A silence that spoke to the bond between them, a friendship forged from years of working side by side and cemented through a few days of hell. Shane had a feeling that was the sort of thing that had a drastic effect on any relationship. He was happy there’s seemed to have been for the positive.

Eventually, Ryan spoke.

“Shane, what are we gonna do?”

Shane swallowed. He closed his eyes for a second and breathed in the scent of Ryan pressed so close to him. 

“I don’t know. But whatever we do, we’re gonna do it together.” He paused, pulling back just enough that he could look Ryan in the eye. “Ghoul bois ride or die, baby.”

Ryan chuckled weakly at the pet name. He ran a thumb across Shane’s cheek, for once not caring whether it would be appropriate or not.

“Yeah, Shane. Ride or die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What did you think? 
> 
> I have a couple more quick things to say.
> 
> 1\. I hope it didn't feel like cheating to use the same 'ride or die' phrase that I used in another chapter as the send-off. In my mind, it's something the boys say to each other often whenever they need a reminder that the other will always support them. It's a phrase I hope to carry through to the sequel as well. Maybe that'll even be the name, who knows.
> 
> 2\. I know that despite the tags promising otherwise, there wasn't actually much Shyan in this fic. It's really turned into more of a pre-shyan type thing, and, if I remember to do it, I will change the tags to reflect that. That being said, I am interested in how much Shyan content you guys would like in the second part. Should I lean into the Shyan and make that a main focus, or pull back for those who don't enjoy shyan as a ship? Let me know your thoughts!
> 
> 3\. It's really weird to have the piece of writing you're most proud of be something you can't share with your family for, uh, obvious reasons. So thank you to every single one of you, who made sure I never felt discouraged. I shouted this story into the void, and you shouted back. I will always be so thankful for that.
> 
> And finally, for the eleventh and final (for now) time, stay safe and stay informed 
> 
> :)

**Author's Note:**

> Who took the boys? What do they want from them? Will they make it out alive? And if so, will they ever be the same?


End file.
